


Raining in my Room

by Illeana



Series: Labels Be Damned [2]
Category: Big Bang (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anal Sex, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Muscles, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Self-Denial, Shameless Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4838690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illeana/pseuds/Illeana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hyung.” he rasped out, voice still dripping with lust, making it sound a bit more like a whine, which went straight to Taeyang’s dick.</p><p>“Don’t call me that.” Taeyang growled, impatient to escape the room that now felt too small.</p><p>“Taeyang-ssi.” Yoongi called again, his voice a little steadier, and Taeyang rolled his eyes away from the boy in front of him out of pure frustration.</p><p>“I won’t lie, hyung. I did this to shake you.” He mumbled, breath shaky with need but also with honesty. “I just didn’t think it would be so easy.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shaken, not Stirred

 

 

 

“Let me take a look.” Yoongi reached out for the papers and Taeyang reluctantly handed them over, knowing what the younger boy was most likely to say.

“Hyung, these lyrics are trash.” Yoongi confirmed, true to Taeyang’s prediction.

“I know. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t think of anything.” _Anything but you_ , Taeyang added silently.

“Seriously? Have you listened to this beat?” Yoongi said incredulously.

“Look, I’m not like you. I don’t write lyrics.” He grumbled, snatching the paper out of the younger boy’s hands. “This is more up Jiyong’s avenue.”

Yoongi snorted, which pissed Taeyang off a bit.

“What?” Taeyang growled.

“Are you going to count on Jiyong-ssi forever?” Yoongi asked, cut and dry.

“Fuck it. Forget I asked.” Taeyang cursed.

The silence was heavy for a moment before Yoongi spoke again.

“Just sing my lyrics.”

Taeyang scoffed. “Doesn’t that amount to the same thing?”

Yoongi nodded his head slowly, as if reasoning with himself.

“What I have in mind is a little more honest than what you have written down there.” Yoongi motioned to the limp papers Taeyang was clutching. Yoongi flashed a gummy smile, issuing an unspoken challenge Taeyang couldn’t help but bring himself to answer.

“Fine.” Taeyang spat.

Yoongi’s grin ate at his nerves, or his heart, at this point he wasn’t sure himself.

 

“First, I tweaked the beat a little. Take a listen and acquaint yourself with it.” Yoongi murmured handing Taeyang the headset.

Taeyang took it with fumbling fingers, careful to avoid touching the other boy. Ever since Yoongi had propositioned him two weeks ago, he felt like he couldn’t escape him.

The familiar strings of the initially, slow winding love ballad took on a new life under Yoongi’s care. Edged with an electronic bite and thumping bass the song had morphed from mushy and romantic to sensual and sexy.

Taeyang swallowed hard as he felt the younger boy’s gaze on him, assessing his reaction. Yoongi paused the music to allow for Taeyang’s commentary. When Taeyang wasn’t exactly forthcoming, Yoongi pushed a set of papers at him. Lyrics, apparently.

Taeyang scanned the lyrics, his breath hitching. The lyrics were everything the beat had hinted at, practically blatant sex on the page hidden beneath pretty words and innuendos. It would pass for music programs but Taeyang didn’t miss the meaning. He glanced up at Yoongi, who was openly staring, waiting for his appraisal.

“You’re……really good. It’s…..it’s really good, I mean.” Taeyang croaked out, his voice embarrassingly rusty. Yoongi’s smile reached all the way to his eyes and Taeyang wanted to reach over and slap it off his face.

“I get that a lot.” Yoongi said smugly.

Taeyang’s face faltered at that, allowing himself to skim back through the pages.

“We can head back to the booth whenever you’re ready.” Yoongi murmured, jerking to the recording booth behind him.

“We?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I added a little something that we can take or leave after the final production.”

Taeyang took a moment to collect himself as he and Yoongi headed back to the recording room, a very small, very personal space.

They stood across from each other, slowly fitting the headsets over their heads and adjusting the mics, Yoongi being quite a bit shorter than Taeyang.

“Hyung.”

Taeyang peered over at Yoongi at his call.

“Just enjoy the song, don’t think so hard this time.” He hesitated before adding: “Let your fantasies run rampant. That’s what this song is about. No one will judge you in here.”

Taeyang nodded, swallowing hard, because he understood what Yoongi was referring to though he would never admit to it.

The music bumped through the headset and Taeyang threw himself into the music, as Yoongi suggested. He imagined his lips murmuring the words against pale skin, fingers raking through short platinum locks, and thick black lashes fluttering.

He’d wound his way around the first two verses and the second repetition of the chorus when Yoongi’s voice bit into the mic, his voice a bit raspy as the rapper’s natural bur made an appearance, spitting out the verse he’d assigned himself. Taeyang couldn’t lie it fit well. He’d made the mistake of glancing over at Yoongi’s whose eyes appeared to be locked on the mic, and Taeyang would be lying if he didn’t admit that the guy looked sexy as fuck.

He launched back into the final repetition of the chorus, locking eyes with Yoongi. His voice came out a little huskier than usual but didn’t impede the song. Yoongi stared at him unblinking, a hunger in his eyes that he couldn’t disguise as he stared at Taeyang.

Taeyang knew the boy wanted him, yet he was unprepared for that look in his eyes, scared because it very likely matched his own.

_Fuck it._

What had Yoongi said? That he wanted Taeyang to allow his fantasies to run rampant? That no one could judge him here in this booth? Taeyang preened under Yoongi’s gaze, feeling himself harden in his jeans, but embraced it. When the song ended it felt over too soon, Taeyang’s state of obvious arousal thrumming in his veins.

He shoved the headset back into its place a bit too roughly, gathering his things quickly in an attempt to make a hasty exit.

Yoongi had placed himself in the doorway, strategically, causing Taeyang to pause as he wanted to avoid any contact with the younger man.

“ _Hyung._ ” he rasped out, voice still dripping with lust, making it sound a bit more like a whine, which went straight to Taeyang’s dick.

“Don’t call me that.” Taeyang growled, impatient to escape the room that now felt too small.

“Taeyang-ssi.” Yoongi called again, his voice a little steadier, and Taeyang rolled his eyes away from the boy in front of him out of pure frustration.

“I won’t lie, hyung. I did this to shake you.” He mumbled, breath shaky with need but also with honesty. “I just didn’t think it would be so easy.”

Taeyang turned his eyes back on Yoongi, the anger residing in them practically setting Yoongi ablaze with a far more contradicting emotion. He leaned heavily against the door frame with one hand, fist smacking into the wood with a resounding thud near Yoongi's left ear, the elder's face suddenly too close for comfort. Taeyang appeared angry at what he had allowed to pass between them in the recording studio and Yoongi knew better than to take advantage of the situation as he didn't fancy being punched. Even by someone as sexy as Taeyang.

If he was doing this to prove a point, the fact that it didn’t scare Yoongi one bit was something the younger man would keep to himself.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Min Yoongi.” He growled, dragging out the Yoongi’s name in a way that made it sound like something acrid. Apparently, growling was all Taeyang knew how to do these days.

“YOU, of all people, are incapable if shaking me in any sense of the word.”

He nudged Yoongi aside as he exited the booth, he’d almost made a clean escape before he heard Yoongi call out after him.

“Taeyang-ssi!”

Taeyang paused, not bothering to turn around, still unsure of why he even stopped in the first place.

“Just because you’re not willing to play, doesn’t mean there aren’t others who are.”

He could practically feel the implication behind Yoongi’s words boring a hole into the back of his skull.

Taeyang swallowed the lump in his throat, willing himself to be anywhere but here, preferably under the sting of a cold shower.


	2. Never Say Never

 

 

 

Taeyang bit back the groan that nearly left his lips when the cold droplets of water hit his bare skin. He couldn’t afford to be making such sounds when he’d just ripped what was likely TOP’s booty call out of the shower. That would be rather tactless.

Still… how was it possible Min Yoongi… a MALE… was making him feel this way?

And by ‘this way’ he meant harder than he’d ever been in his damn life.

The water was doing nothing to cool his libido, his body still feeling all hot thinking back to those lyrics.

Cleverly disguised filth.

But God, was it sexy that Yoongi could think like that.

That he could be doing the same thing that Taeyang was doing right now, despite his urge to protest.

He ran a hand across his naked length, already half hard having thought about the content of those damn lyrics, thumb sinking into the slit.

 How was it he could imagine Yoongi whispering words like what had been written on that page in his ear? He could practically hear that carefully disguised Daegu accent start to slur as Taeyang thrust into his hand.

He paused, frozen to the spot when he’d come to the realization of what he’d been doing.

FUCK. ME.

Why was he jerking off to a dude!?

He smacked the walls of the shower in frustration, to no avail.

Still, the hard on wasn’t going away any time soon and it’s not like he was actually fucking the guy.

 _Yet_ , his inner self taunted.

He forced himself to swallow whatever revulsion came from the thought, desperate for relief.

‘ _Let your fantasies run rampant_ …’ Yoongi’s voice echoed in his head as he returned his hand to palm himself under the water’s spray after fixing the temperature. ‘ _No one will judge you in here._ ’

Taeyang swallowed as he replayed the sound of Yoongi’s voice, stroking himself to the rhythm of the rap Yoongi had spit out earlier.

Taeyang’s brain focused on that one word as he began to imagine Yoongi’s mouth wrapped around his dick. What he’d give to fuck the hot recesses of the blonde boy’s mouth, tongue swirling in and out of his tip, licking at his salty pre-cum and mouth the underside, pulling off with a lewd pop every now and then.

“Yoongi…” he breathed helplessly as cum erupted from the tip, splattering unceremoniously to the ceramic basin of TOP’s shower.

Taeyang couldn’t help but feel it was a waste, feeling it would have been much more aesthetically pleasing painted across Yoongi’s face.

Sucking in the steam around him in harsh pants, he felt his dick twitch again at the imaginary sight of Yoongi with Taeyang’s cum streaked across his features.

“I am so fucked up.” Taeyang whispered to himself as he slid down the slick shower wall, crumpling into a momentarily defeated ball, letting the hot spray pound away at him, feeling unsatisfied even after release.

Because it wasn’t real.

And he didn’t know if he wanted it to be.

Or if he could stand himself if it were.

 

 

It had been a week since Yoongi had seen Taeyang, the track sat unfinished in the corner of the studio room, taunting him. He still needed Taeyang to add some background vocals and maybe re-do a few parts, but the older man was nowhere in sight.

It really was a shame he’d been scared off so damn easily. If he ever came back Yoongi sure as hell wouldn’t make that mistake again no matter how tempting Taeyang was.

Seriously, who spent that much time perfecting their physique but wasn’t open to sharing it with all those who might truly appreciate it?

Well…he supposed that was just the curse of someone born male who happened to be attracted to other men, or at least more so than to women.

Besides, if Taeyang liked women as much as he said he did when he’d turned down Yoongi’s proposition, he’d find that Yoongi had some remarkably feminine qualities. Pale creamy skin, a thin wiry frame… and a penchant for bottoming. But perhaps these things were what unsettled Taeyang. Which, in his case, would make him even more hopeless.

Today, he and the rest of Bangtan was at some God forsaken photo shoot where he’d been outfitted in a classic white V-neck tee tucked into snugly fitting jeans, belted at the waist. Yoongi knew this style suited him but his favorite part was definitely the black leather jacket that lay open haphazardly. He ran a hand through his bed-head like coif to give the blonde tresses that truly sexy definition they were going for before letting out a sigh. He was going to be shooting with Jimin. He’d heard something about the bedroom eyed boy being better suited to be his opposite than Hoseok off handedly as the stylists went by.

However, they weren’t due on set for another hour or so and so Yoongi was left to his thoughts. A dangerous position indeed. What he really needed was advice, or at least someone to talk him down from the ledge of sexual frustration.

Normally, he’d go to Namjoon with this kind of thing but seeing as Namjoon had more than enough of his own problems with other members, namely one Kim Seokjin, he decided to turn elsewhere.

He spotted Kookie leaning against the wall, eyes dazed, looking like Hell.

“Jiyong-ssi keep you up all week, Kookie?” he sauntered over casually.

The kid looked like Yoongi felt. Just you know, it was all over his face with deep circles that the makeup had hastily concealed.

“Out of pure frustration.” Jungkook gritted out sullenly.

“What is it with that group that gets us all hot and bothered?”

Jungkook let out a chuckle, which warmed Yoongi right up, at least the kid was dead enough to not have a sense of humor. Then, he’d have to beat the fuck out one Kwon Jiyong. Nobody messed with the Golden Maknae.

Not that the kid couldn’t take care of himself, he added, making a mental note of Jungkook’s lean, tan and muscular body. Reminded him a lot of someone else he knew…

When would Dong Young Bae ever stray from his thoughts? He desperately needed some relief.

“You too, hyung?”

When the silence thickened awkwardly Yoongi sought to fill it.

“You’re a top, right, Kookie?” Yoongi hesitated, fully aware of Kookie’s tendencies thanks to one Kim Seokjin who went through a brief period of obsession with the maknae.

Yoongi himself had never been truly tempted by the younger. Even now all he could focus on was the similarities between him and someone like… well, never mind.

Jungkook eyed Yoongi with could only be termed gleaming interest, excited by the turn of conversation.

“Why are you asking Yoongi-hyung?” the younger murmured cautiously, a smile ghosting on his lips as he waited for Yoongi’s answer.

“To be honest, I, well, I… need some advice.” He stammered out with little grace.

Kookie looked away from Yoongi as the older boy studied him, the maknae’s eyes fixed on something in the distance.

“Don’t you usually go to Namjoon for this kind of stuff? Why me?” Kookie turned his gaze back to Yoongi, his smile glowing in earnest now as he delivered his next line. “You trying to pick me up hyung?”

Yoongi scoffed at the kid’s toothy grin and the teasing gaze he thought would bore holes into his head if he didn’t return it soon enough.

“As if I don’t know you have your sights set on Jiyong-ssi.”

Kookie’s smile never faltered as he looked down between his legs, toying with his show strings for a moment, looking utterly fucking adorable. How does someone who looks so damn cute accomplish “giving the best damn dicking” of someone’s life (that someone being a certain Kim Seokjin)?

“Maybe, but I’m no adverse to a good _proposition_.” Kookie looked up at Yoongi, eyebrows raising as he said the last word.

Fucking Kim Seokjin.

“Ah. So, he told you.”

“Well… no. I’m just really good at eavesdropping as you told Jin-hyung.”

Well, there went the neighborhood, Yoongi cringed inwardly upon discovering that is sad tale had spread.

“So, answer me honestly then Kookie.” Yoongi turned to Jungkook as others began to crowd around them, flitting here and there, ignoring their awkward perches off the set.

“What is it that turns a top on?”

Jungkook’s grin couldn’t get any wider as he stared up at the expanse of ceiling above them, seemingly assessing his thoughts. The silence felt like it stretched on forever as they sat there; Yoongi with his knees drawn in towards his body, face turned towards Kookie to study him better and Jungkook with his limbs sprawled out staring into the heavens.

“I guess it all depends on the person in question, hyung. But I can tell you what I like… if you want.” Kookie cooed, voice cracking and rusty from use as he shifted his face towards Yoongi’s direction.

Yoongi nodded his assent.

“Tell me.”

Jungkook grinned, dragging his body over to cup a hand over Yoongi’s ear as he began to spill his secrets.

“I like it when someone is direct, hyung. When they tell me exactly what they want.” Kookie began, his voice hot and heavy in Yoongi’s ear as his tongue darted forward to moisten his lips, teasing Yoongi’s lobe as it did so.

“I did.” He offered to bottom, in no uncertain terms.

“Hyung, you have to do it EXPLICITLY.” Kookie verbally caressed the last word in that sentence, making Yoongi’s breath hitch.

Kookie merely chuckled and continued, delighted by the response he was eliciting from his hyung.

“Tell him how you want his cock between those pretty little pink lips of yours, hyung. How you want him to taste himself on your tongue because you’d be more than willing to swallow his load.” The younger murmured the filth with a silky purr, which stirred Yoongi’s blood a little more than he cared to admit.

How the hell was Jiyong holding out on this kid?

“Tell him how you want his dick buried balls deep inside your perky little ass, hyung. Tell him how you want him to fuck you until you’re nothing more a sticky…wet...” Kookie breathed languorously into Yoongi’s ear, experimentally tracing the shell of Yoongi’s ear with the tip of his tongue, not even bothering to conceal it, resulting in a well-earned shiver of anticipation from Yoongi. “…mess.”

Yoongi shifted his eyes to meet Jungkook’s cocky ass smile. The tension floating between them was palpable, but Kookie merely shrugged when the older boy made no advances or future promises.

“But that’s just what I like, hyung.” The angelic face returning as his shoulder pressed warmly against his own before resting his head there.

“And you know, I think Taeyang-ssi might like it too…” Jungkook began as his eyes fixed to something across the studio. “…but I don’t think he likes me.” Kookie giggled deviously.

Yoongi followed the younger’s gaze nearly starting when his eyes locked with a familiar muscle-bound form. A very…angry…muscle bound form.

There was something indecipherable in Taeyang’s eyes as he drank in the sight set before him, of Yoongi and Kookie huddling together. Yoongi felt a bit of pride at having the momentary upper hand, as Jungkook sent a small wave in that direction, arm now looped through Yoongi’s.

Fuck him.

Just because he didn’t want a piece of Yoongi, didn’t mean others didn’t.

Taeyang continued to stare him down until Jiyong came up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder to turn him away, but not before eyeballing Kookie, with equal displeasure, to which Kookie only smiled.

“I probably won’t ever get laid now.” Kookie sighed, resigned, but smile still plastered on his face for show despite his despair.

“Never say never, Kookie.” Yoongi murmured and winked at his new partner in crime.

To which Kookie couldn’t help but grin back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter....I feel far more inspired after seeing a BB concert and just basking in their stage presence.
> 
> There will be more soon!
> 
> I'm already furiously typing away at another chapter!
> 
> Fall break was a serious BLESSING!


	3. Sloppy Seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Min Yoongi takes the advice from Kookie.....very literally.

 

 

Taeyang was unsure of how long he’d spotted them sitting there.

And not even bothering to hide it.

The way the black haired kid suckled on Yoongi’s ear, _ridiculous_.

Who even thought up that stupid fucking word? _Canoodling._

It was stupid but he could feel the sense of fury clouding his vision the longer he stared.

It was at that moment Yoongi’s eyes locked with his form, Jiyong’s play thing having been alerted to his presence long before.

The cheeky bastard even had the balls to wave over at him.

He felt Jiyong before he heard him, a hand at his shoulder.

“Bae. It’s time for make-up.” Jiyong’s voice, soft sounded behind him. Jiyong’s voice was soft and insistent and as much as he’d like to shrug it off, he didn’t knowing the other man would only ask questions he wasn’t ready to answer himself. He turned and let Jiyong guide him, his friend’s hand at the small of his back, making Taeyang itch for something that couldn’t be scratched even further.

His damn pride wouldn’t allow for it.

 

*

He’d been in the studio for what felt like hours, trying to chase the ghosts of Taeyang’s eyes from his mind. Bastard didn’t even want to admit he was interested, why was he moping over the idiot?

_Fuck that guy._

Well…he wished he could.

He’d give him one hell of a ride if he ever got the chance.

Damn it.

He’d done it again, unintentionally thinking of Taeyang when the guy wanted nothing to with him.

He might just have to take Kookie up on that suggestion he’d mentioned earlier.

Clearly he needed to get some and get his mind out of the gutter. It was starting to interfere with work.

He stared moodily into the mic while the music swirled around him.

Pressing the remote he restarted the music, spitting rhymes inside of the booth, his tongue running away from him as he bit out verses of some free form.

But all the verses were turning into something far too sexual and Yoongi banged his head against the mic stand, unable to continue on, his frustrations growing.

He was more than irritated when the door flung open just when he’d started again, the vibrations shaking the mic hovering above him as hit slammed open.

He turned about to tell the person interrupting him to promptly FUCK OFF but when he turned around to find Taeyang stalking towards him the words died in his throat.

Originally, Taeyang had no real intention of chasing after this blonde freak of nature. But the anger he felt just wouldn’t shake, no matter how he’d tried.

Wordlessly, he ripped the headset off of Yoongi’s ears and jammed them back onto the stand so hard Yoongi was afraid he might have broken them.

What the fuck was up with this guy? He couldn’t afford shit like that.

He was about to tell him so before Taeyang shoved him roughly against the wall behind him and caging him in with his arms.

Those arms may be something to write home about but Yoongi had already made up his mind to forget this asshole….right?

“Having fun with your boy toy, Yoongi-ah?” Taeyang growled into the space between their faces and Yoongi chose to let the comment slide, hoping silence might effectively shut the fucker up.

When Taeyang made it clear he’d no intention of moving without an answer, Yoongi merely cocked his head to the side, his blood boiling between the threat Taeyang presented and the arousal Taeyang always managed to muster.

Why the fuck did he like it when this bastard challenged him?

He decided to push his anger to the surface.

You fight fire with fire, afterall.

Eye for a mother-fucking eye.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he spat, voice raspy.

Taeyang eyed him, waiting for him to elaborate because the asshole seems to have either forgotten what Yoongi told him previously, or thought he was exaggerating.

“I told you, _hyung_ …that if you didn’t want to play…” he murmured flashing a gummy smile. “…I’d find someone else to fuck me. Didn’t I?”

Yoongi visibly saw the measured control on Taeyang’s anger snap at his retort.

He smiled victoriously, but it was short lived as Taeyang ground his hips into Yoongi’s own, making Yoongi have to stifle what was some sort of awkward cross between a cry of pain and a moan of pleasure.

Taeyang smiled, his eyes narrowed into slits.

Fucking bastard was enjoying this.

“Ya know, I didn’t peg you as a cock-slut Yoongi-ah.” Taeyang hissed at Yoongi.

He thrust his hips into Yoongi once more, causing Yoongi to wince, before adding “Never thought you’d be so desperate you’re chasing Jiyong’s sloppy seconds.”

It earned him a glare before Yoongi could paint a grin on his face, despite being completely at the mercy of the older man’s much more dominating form.

“Seconds, huh?” he wheezed out between the tight smile. He wasn’t proud of how his breath hitched when Taeyang took the opportunity to slot his thigh between Yoongi’s legs. The erection Taeyang was sporting now blatantly obvious as it pressed into his right hip, even through the double layer of fabric.

“You sure I’m the one receiving sloppy seconds, Taeyang-ssi?”

Taeyang growled, thrust his pelvis harshly into Yoongi’s hip, causing the younger boy’s form to bang against the wall once more with force, making a satisfying thud.

Well, that answered that question.

“Try hard not to think of me while that _little boy_ is fucking you, okay, Yoongi-ah?” Taeyang smirked, thrusting into Yoongi once more before readying himself to part from the younger man, satisfied to have the last word at least.

But Yoongi’s hand bunches at the collar of Taeyang’s muscle tee and he’s being tugged back as Yoongi pins him to the wall, a look he hadn’t seen before painted on the younger’s face.

The tables were reversed and Taeyang found himself not liking it one bit and liking it too much all at the one time. Yoongi didn’t have much muscle on him but Taeyang stayed never the less, his head more than a little muddled whenever he found himself in the blonde boy’s presence.

“How should that go exactly, _hyung_?” Yoongi’s eyes glinted as his breath fanned over Taeyang’s face.

“Should I not imagine your hands when he touches my body?”

Taeyang snorted out of habit, his breath only stilling when he felt Yoongi’s hand trace feather light touches around bicep before his long pale fingers curled around the muscle, fascinated. His voice dropped to an octave low, guttural, and entirely too sexy for his senses to handle.

“Should I not imagine your lips around my cock when he blows me?” He swallowed, as Yoongi traced his own lips with his tongue, and Taeyang found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the younger boy.

“Should I not imagine it being you buried to the hilt inside of my ass when he fucks me later?”

When no response came Yoongi continued.

Taeyang felt like Yoongi was sexing his damn brain.

And FUCK if he didn’t find it the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.

“Should I not scream you name when he makes me come, _Bae_?”

Yoongi eyed him now, clearly enjoying the way the older man squirmed under the scrutiny.

Min Yoongi and his mouth was fucking lethal.

The tipping point had been the way the younger had murmured his birth name, making him breathless and harder than fucking sheetrock.

Hell, who was he kidding? Everything about Min Yoongi had him going stiff in the nether regions.

Especially when he used that wonderful mouth to expel such filth.

Fuck, why was this so damn HOT?

Before he could possibly think straight he pulled Yoongi’s mouth to his, crushing their lips together, licking into the other boy’s mouth feverishly.

His mouth was warm and moist and he wondered what it’d feel like around his dick, the thought making Taeyang dizzy as Yoongi caught his tongue and sucked.

Dear God.

It was like the guy read his mind.

He threaded his fingers into the pale blonde hair as he wrenched his lips from Yoongi’s to nip at the younger’s neck, anxious to mark up the flawless pale skin.

The need to claim storming through him.

The need for purchase to strong as he sucked insistently at a space between the base of the boy’s collar bone and the base of his neck.

Yoongi groaned, the sound low in his throat, eliciting a triumphant smile from Taeyang as he felt the vibrations of the noise itch at his lips.

He liked it, huh?

Min Yoongi was HIS.

The thought startled him and he quickly forced some distance between him and Yoongi.

That was fucking terrifying.

What the HELL was he doing?

And out here in the open where anyone could spot them…

“Bae?” Yoongi’s voice was meant as a question but it came out as more of a whine and Taeyang dragged his eyes over Yoongi’s form.

Yoongi’s eyes were glazed, pupils blown, lips still glossed with a sheen of saliva, red and puffy from kissing.

The boy looked wrecked and…..so fucking good.

No. Damn it.

He watched as Yoongi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed before he gathered his thoughts enough to storm out the room.

Out of the building actually.

Needing as much fucking distance between him and Min Yoongi as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol so glad I have all this incredibly sexy music on my phone as inspiration for this story. 
> 
> I wrote this listening to Crush and Rude Boy by Rihanna.
> 
> Hot damn, Min Yoongi takes good advice!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	4. Blunt is Sexy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shit Taeyang puts up with....it unfathomable.
> 
> But it's also Min-fucking-Yoongi.

 

“Fuck it. We’re going out to drink.”

Namjoon had said that he was sure of it. Yoongi groaned as soon as his body smacked softly against his mattress after their night out.

Seungri-ssi was out there sleeping on the sofa.

Or maybe not sleeping with the way Namjoon had been eye-raping the guy all evening.

He hummed trying to will sleep to come and invade his alcohol addled brain.

He’d refused to admit to anything in the presence of Taeyang’s bandmate but the man seemed to have Yoongi’s number despite his efforts to conceal…..whatever it was you called the lingering tension between him and Taeyang.

Just thinking of the name caused a stir in his pants and his thoughts drifted off to that day in the booth when Taeyang had stormed in like a bat out of hell, kissing him senseless before he could get a good grip on himself.

All because he’d seen Kookie whispering things into his ear.

Very, very dirty things, mind you.

Yoongi grinned and felt his dick beginning to rise to the occasion and he marveled at himself for even being able to pull a hard on off in such a state.

He guessed the term whiskey dick meant nothing when it concerned the likes of Taeyang.

Sighing, he shifted, fishing his phone out of his pants pocket.

Kookie was far too drunk to of any use.

Besides he wasn’t even the one he was craving.

Yoongi’s fingers hovered over the contact name.

‘Taeyang-ssi’

He’d given him his number weeks ago for the track they’d been working on.

Before that proposition Yoongi had handed him so gracelessly.

He remembered his mouth watering at the sight before him.

 

*

 

_Tae-mother-fucking-yang…..dear God._

_His muscles were so much better glistening in front of him, something that surprised Yoongi as he’d never been attracted to the overly ripped type per say._

_After spending a slow torturous week with the man in cramped small spaces, being blinded by sly side smiles and rippling pectorals the man looked beyond stressed._

_Yoongi grinned._

_“Well there’s one sure-fire way of getting rid of stress.”_

_The gummy smile seemed to have incited something in Taeyang and he slid a naughty smile back at Yoongi._

_“Yeah but I haven’t the time to go out in search of such a conquest.” He sighed._

_The words were out of Yoongi’s mouth before he could take them back._

_“Who said you had to go searching?”_

_Taeyang just looked at him incredulously._

_“What?”_

_“I can help you out. If you want.”_

_“I-I-I’m not gay, dude.” Taeyang sputtered. Yoongi’s gummy smile stayed in place as he just shrugged._

_“I’m into women. ONLY women. Hot women. With curves and shit.” Taeyang rambled on, gesturing to mimic the over exaggerated curve of breasts as he held his hands out in front of him, but Yoongi simply blinked at him owlishly._

_“Men. Women. They’re all the same, yeah?”_

_At Taeyang’s horrified look Yoongi just sighed._

_“It’s not like I’m asking to be your boyfriend or some shit, dude, calm down.” When Taeyang said nothing, Yoongi grinned._

_“I’d even bottom for you.”_

_Taeyang blinked, what the fuck was a BOTTOM?_

_“No thanks.” Taeyang murmured, clearly uncomfortable._

_“Suit yourself.” Yoongi smiled and shrugged, delving back into their work, leaving Taeyang to awkwardly side eye him for the rest of the night._

_*_

 

That had been weeks ago, as Yoongi reminisces his thumb pads over the contact as he hits dial icon, the ringing tone echoing devastatingly into the empty darkness of his room he shared with Namjoon.

The phone clicked over, indicating someone had picked up and Yoongi’s drunk self had the audacity to allow his breath to catch.

“Yah, Dong Young Bae, you there?”

“…..Yoongi-ah?” Taeyang’s voice came from the speaker, voice gravelly with sleep. “What the fuck, it’s like 3 am….”

Yoongi chuckled and rolled over onto his back as he listened to the rustling sounds on the other end of the phone.

He was just happy the asshole picked up.

“Shhhhh….hyung. You don’t have to talk.” Yoongi pushed his pants down to puddle at his feet, reaching a hand inside his boxers to nurse his erection. “I’ll do the talking.”

“…..” The silence on the other end was deafening and for a moment Yoongi thought he’d hung up but a glance at his phone told him they were still connected.

“Hyung?”

“Mmmm….” Taeyang grumbled in his sleep filled voice.

“I meant all those things I said the other day. How I want to feel your lips on me but….” Yoongi paused, knowing he was about to sound horribly gay and decided he didn’t really give two fucks.

“I really want to taste you.”

“Taste me….?” Taeyang’s voice seemed a little dazed and Yoongi figured he had to begun to drift back to sleep. Yoongi giggled at the thought.

Giggled?

Fuck. He didn’t giggle.

The shit he did for this man.

“Yeah, well, your cock that is. I bet it’d be salty. But you’d taste good, I bet.”

“What the fuck, Yoongi-ah, it’s too early for this shit.” Taeyang protested, his growl alerting Yoongi he was now a bit more awake.

“Shhhhh…..you just have to listen Taeyang-ssi.” Yoongi insisted before continuing on, pumping his hand up and down his hardened length.

“Just listen.” Yoongi said, voice breaking as his grip tightened around the tip of his cock.

“Are you… Are you touching yourself, right now?” Taeyang’s voice came from the other end of the receiver. He sounded a little scared and a little bit awestruck and Yoongi was unsure which emotion he wanted to prey upon so he settled for an answer halfway between the truth and a lie.

“Does it matter? Can’t you just listen?” his words were slurring a bit, from the alcohol or from the pleasure he wasn’t sure but he didn’t much care either.

There was another long pause and Yoongi thought he heard Taeyang swallow before his reply came.

“…I’m listening.”

Yoongi flushed. The fact that Taeyang was willing to even entertain the thought of hearing out his little fantasies was a step in the right direction and it had him keening in his boxers, pre-cum leaking out the tip as he delved his thumb into the slit. It made him want to cry out but he stifled it, unwilling to come too fast or risk giving himself away to the man on the other end of the phone.

“I want you in my mouth, Taeyang-ssi. I want your hands in my hair, digging into my scalp, like the other day. I want to taste you as you cum into my mouth. I want to swallow it. All of it. I’d want you to taste yourself on my lips when you kiss me.” Yoongi whined, breath coming in heavy pants but he tried to keep it quiet.

“Fuck Yoongi. You’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” Taeyang growled into the phone, voice raspy.

Yoongi bit his lip as he could feel the heat pooling heavier and heavier in his stomach, his dick painfully hard but still needing MORE. Just a little bit MORE.

“If I am?” Yoongi’s voice replied, hating himself for how incredibly small it sounded, afraid for the inevitable click of the line he was sure was going to follow.

“Are you?” Taeyang repeated, his voice a little huskier than before and it resonated somewhere deep inside Yoongi, but still strong and demanding.

“Yes.” Was all Yoongi could manage as his breath stilled, eyes clenched waiting for the empty sound of the dial tone.

“Did…have you come?”

Yoongi blinked his eyes and shook his head, more than a little shocked, before he realized Taeyang couldn’t see him.

“No.” he managed, breathily.

“Mmmm.”

Yoongi shifted uncomfortably.

“What else?” Taeyang’s voice floated from the phone and the question settled awkwardly around him in the air.

“Hmm?”

“What else….or is it that you only want to blow me?” Taeyang repeated, the last of his words sending a heat capable of curling Yoongi’s toes.

Blunt was good.

Blunt was fucking sexy.

He could work with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left you at a bit of a cliff hanger before I get to the good stuff.
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying it. 
> 
> Honestly the updates all come pretty easy once I immerse myself in them.
> 
> Keep reading, kudo-ing, commenting, and subscribing. (Please?<3)
> 
> I love these things....they make my day!


	5. Coming Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taeyang lets the reigns loosen a bit.  
> Something, Yoongi might regret.

 

Taeyang waited, breath caught in his throat and he thought of Yoongi, hand around his dick, stroking while he thought of Taeyang in his mouth.

What was it about the blonde boy’s mouth that had him hot and bothered?

He felt the strain of his cock in his briefs but made no move to free himself of the burden.

It would be gay if he did that…wouldn’t it?

But no one else would know.

No one will judge you here.

Taeyang cursed inwardly just as Yoongi’s voice picked up again.

“You know I want you to fuck me. What else is there to that?” Yoongi chuckled.

Taeyang didn’t want this to be the end.

His cock was hard and in his hand now.

He had questions.

So many fucking questions.

“Tell me how then.”

“You want me to tell you how to fuck? I figured you already knew how to do that, Bae.” Yoongi teased.

Asshole just wanted to hear him say it.

Because he knew.

He probably knew Taeyang was just as turned on as he was.

Palming himself slowly to the lilt of Yoongi’s voice.

“Tell me how you want me to fuck you, Yoongi.” Taeyang growled.

“Ah. So you want to know how I like it.” Yoongi crooned, bemused.

“But it depends, you know, on rather I’m the top or the bottom.”

“Top or bottom?” Taeyang mumbled, sinking his thumb into the slit of his dick, distracted for a moment by the pleasure.

“Yeah, you know, giving or taking dick.”

“Taking.”

Yoongi only chuckled his assent at Taeyang’s hasty answer. Drawing his hand up slowly then slowly slamming his spit slicked palm down his length, Yoongi moaned into the phone.

“Enjoying yourself, are we?” Taeyang said, an amused tone coloring his voice.

Fuck that moan was hot.

And he could just picture Yoongi lying there.

“Mmmm.”

“What are you thinking of….while you do that?”

Yoongi thumbed at the head of his cock.

“How I wish it was your hand wrapped around me instead of my own. How I’d mumble about how to stroke me properly while groaning into your mouth before reaching down and instructing you how do it my damn self. Inexperience is kind of hot in that sense, ya know?”

“I am not inexperienced.”

“So you know how to jerk another guy off then?” Yoongi asked, doubt apparent. He paused for a moment to slick a finger with spit.

“Can’t be that hard.”

Yoongi smiled at that, as he moved his hands to trace his hole.

“Oh, but it can be.”

“Not funny smart ass.”

“Speaking of ass…” Yoongi groaned, as he slipped the first finger in. “What do you think of mine?”

Taeyang was moving his palm up and down length languidly as he thought to himself.

Yoongi’s ass. He hadn’t really thought about it.

Until now.

He tried like hell to bring forth any images of the said body part in question but failed so he went with:

“It’s alright I guess.”

“Yah, don’t insult me just because you weren’t looking.”

Was the guy telepathic or some shit?

“Besides Kookie-ah says it cute and perky. We all know how much you’re a fan of cute and perky, don’t we hyung?”

Taeyang did his best to stifle the shot of jealousy that ran through him when he heard the little raven haired fuckboy’s name on Yoongi’s lips.

“Sure. Whatever.” He yanked on his dick harder, faster, imagining pounding into Yoongi as some twisted form of punishment.

“Don’t go so hard yet, hyung. Shouldn’t we finish together?” Yoongi’s voice whined into the phone and Taeyang froze.

“How did you—“

“I wish this were you inside of me instead of my fingers. Can you hear it, Bae?” Yoongi holds the phone down by his now very wet, very lubed up hole where he’s fucking himself open with three fingers, making a squelching sound that goes straight to Taeyang’s dick (once again).

“Three fingers. But I bet you’re bigger than that, given the way I could practically feel the outline of your dick that day in the studio. I might need to use four fingers.”

Yoongi inserted the fourth finger and bit his lip from the stretch.

“ _Fuck_ Yoongi. Did you put it in?” Taeyang gasped in anticipation.

If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly.

What was it Yoongi had said again?

_Let your fantasies run rampant?_

“Mmmmm, yeah. It’s a little…tight. Fuck, it burns.” Yoongi groans as he wiggles the fingers inside him.

“Go slow, baby.”

Yoongi complies, slowly grinding himself against the four fingers.

“Can you fit the fifth one in there?” Taeyang’s voice sounds desperate and Yoongi hums.

“Maybe. Want me to try?”

“Yeah.” Taeyang’s mouth is running dry as he pulls slowly against his slick and already too sensitive cock head. It’s angry, red, and pulsing with the need to come.

Yoongi groans as he pushes the last of his digits into his ass, crooking the tallest of them to stroke his prostate.

“Found it.” He gasps in pleasure.

“Found what?”

Yoongi smiles to himself.

“Prostate. And fuck does it feel good, Bae.” He bites his lip as he rocks against his fingers at the proper angle to continuously abuse the new found sweet spot.

“Yeah?” Taeyang has his doubts but with the way Yoongi is moaning into the phone like his flesh is melting off his body had him reconsidering the possibility that it really could feel as good as Yoongi describes.

“I’m so—so fucking close, hyung.” Yoongi pants into the phone.

Taeyang licks his lips.

Fuck it.

It’s now or never.

“I wish I could see your face, Yoongi-ah. See you look all wrecked, imagining my cock inside you.”

Yoongi moaned at Taeyang’s words, encouraging Taeyang to push it further.

“Are you going to come Yoongi? Are you going to come for me, baby?”

Yoongi can do nothing but whimper his assent into the phone as he feels the rush of blood pulling at his dick, release close while Taeyang feeds into his fantasy with his sleepy growls.

“Come for me. Come thinking of my cock in place of your fingers. Think of me…..filling you up. I bet you’re tight, since it burns. Come Yoongi-ah. Come all over the bed sheets like you would if I were fucking you.”

Taeyang flushed at all the words that had come unbidden just from Yoongi’s desperate whines.

But he couldn’t be bothered with that at the moment because Yoongi just cried into the phone, little groans of pleasure following after.

He’d come.

He’d come just as Taeyang had bid him to.

Fuck that was hot.

It had Taeyang yanking on his dick, sending him quickly tumbling into a release of his own, silent but harder than he’d ever experienced before.

The line was silent save for the soft panting of breath.

“Hyung…” Yoongi started.

Taeyang didn’t have any words for Yoongi, so he did the only thing that came to mind as the weight of what he allowed to happen settled in.

 

The line went dead and Yoongi felt the hot sting of tears starting to form at the creases of his eyes.

He wiped furiously at the unbidden reaction to rejection.

“Man, fuck this guy.”

He mumbled.

He’d never admit he let the rest of the tears escape, curling into a ball beneath the covers, as he drifted into the much more comfortable, much more familiar realm of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't make it too easy for these two now can we?  
> My poor Yoongi-ah... we've all been there.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed it! Stay tuned!


	6. My Inspiration is at the Bottom of this Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi does whatever it takes to push him from his mind.
> 
> Sometimes inspiration comes from our darkest of nights...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is recreational drug use in this chapter....proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Also...a few friends from the Exo M ensemble make their (brief) appearance. ;)
> 
> This chapter was inspired by Jay Park's 'You Know' ft Okasian. I highly recommend it :P

 

Yoongi woke, all too cognizant of the happenings the night prior.

Why couldn’t he have been drunk enough to not remember any of it before dialing…HIM?

He lets out a sigh as he rolls out and off of his bed, meandering into the living room.

Which is surprisingly sofa-less.

Well this is new.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jungkook clamber through the doorway and Yoongi ignores them, tugging a bowl down from the cabinet, pouring in some cereal and munching contentedly when he eyes Namjoon, the presumed leader of the expedition.

“Yah, why are we sofa-less?” he grumbles when Hoseok presents him with a smile that was dizzying. And not in a good sense.

Ah, hangover.

There you are.

Missed you, he thought bitterly.

“Namjoon-ah—“

“God of Destruction strikes again.” Kookie says chirpily effectively cutting off Hoseok’s line of speech with a hard shove of his shoulder.

Namjoon only smiles, slinging his arm around Hoseok.

“You have fun destroying our things Joonie?” Yoongi inquires, bemusement apparent in his eyes.

“Not as much fun as you had last night, hyung.” Kookie’s voice sounds beside him, eyebrows lifting with a smile and Yoongi merely eyes him, continuing to mouth at his cereal.

“Meaning?”

“Hmmm…let’s see, what was it you said…four fingers or five…” Jungkook looked pensive, glancing up at the ceiling, pretending the answers would come from the heavens above.

Yoongi choked on his Rice Crisp cereal, milk catching in his throat before he forced himself to swallow it down, coughing. Kookie’s hand clapped him on the back, shit eating grin ever present.

“You okay, hyung?” Jungkook’s wide eyes peered at him, doing his best to look the picture of innocence.

“You heard nothing.” Yoongi growled, but the threat didn’t seem to phase Kookie in the least.

“Whatever you say, hyung.” He smiled but grabbed at Yoongi’s wrist when he made to leave.

“I really am curious though... did you ever get that fifth one in there?” Kookie whispered, voice low in Yoongi’s ear.

Yoongi shivered but shoved Kookie off in irritation.

“It’s none of your business.”

Kookie only smiled, his smug smile something Yoongi could only take in small doses.

“If you need a…hand… with that, well, you know where to find me hyung.” Kookie says sweetly before moseying off in the direction of his room.

Sad thing is, Yoongi is sorely tempted.

He tugs on some outerwear over whatever the hell it is he has on and pulls his beanie down low, intent on making some sort of progress in the studio, determined to get his mind out of the damn gutter.

 

*

 

Turns out he really wasn’t able to get any work done in the studio or out of it no matter how he’d tried. Yoongi hung his head in shame as he spun around in half circles in the rolling chair.

Or at least that’s how Namjoon found him.

“Out of ideas?” Namjoon mused, taking in Yoongi’s form.

He could tell something was eating his friend, sapping his energies, something that didn’t happen very often for Yoongi.

Unless it involved sex.

“Yep.” Yoongi forced out a bitter laugh. “Totally spent.”

The only thing was, if Yoongi wasn’t talking to Namjoon about it he knew better than to push his hyung.

So he’d take a different approach.

“Then let’s go somewhere where we can get you some inspiration.”

Yoongi peered up at Namjoon through his fringe, a wide dimpled smile painted across the bastard’s face.

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

Namjoon pulled his hands from his pockets, tossing a black envelope he had pulled from inside on the floor at Yoongi’s feet.

Yoongi’s eyes went wide as he took in the gilded gold lettering printed on the paper.

“The Lair?” Yoongi responded, tone bordering hysterical when he was striving for rather casual disbelief.

Namjoon’s eyebrows merely lifted, that annoying grin still painted on his face.

“Plus one.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smiling from spreading to his own face.

Cheeky bastard.

Still. Yoongi couldn’t complain.

He knew just how to cheer up his hyung.

 

*

 

Yoongi’s head was swimming as he took in the strobing lights of green mixing with the curling tendrils of sweetly smelling smoke.

If there was a ridiculous gummy smile pasted on his face he couldn’t really help himself.

Namjoonie had really outdone himself this time.

He fingered the silk of the printed robe draping across the girl in his lap…or was it a man?

He really couldn’t tell. Whoever they were, they were damn good at making Yoongi confused.

Not that that wasn’t particularly hard at the moment, given the way he felt his mind freer than had been in ages.

Namjoon took a hard drag of the hookah pipe, turning to the girl beside him, slotting his mouth against hers as he spilled the smoke into her mouth, then nodded toward Yoongi with a lift of his chin.

Her eyes locked with his, only too happy to comply.

Yoongi only chuckled, leaning over to meet her half way.

Namjoon was right, the little bastard.

He’d be writing about this for weeks.

Hell he felt like he could compose whole fucking symphonies as good as he felt right now.

The fumes seeped from her mouth, filling his mouth with the moist taste of….whatever the hell it was burning in that tray.

He caught the girl’s jaw in his hand, licking into her mouth, lapping up the excess flavor, unable to keep the smile from his face.

The girl, or guy, in his lap wriggled, whimpering obscenely. Guy. Definitely a guy.

A very pretty guy. Blonde with feline like eyes that were lined with kohl with careful strokes. Yoongi drew his hand up to thumb at the jaw line of his companion, before placing a kiss along the artfully constructed expanse of tanned throat the man was baring. He sucked lightly, earning him a low key whine.

“You’ve got some balls, playing with the one who’s caught the eye of the Dragon King.” A soft, amused voice came lilting from behind him.

Yoongi turned meeting the eyes of a sweet faced man who looked so deceptively feminine, Yoongi nearly choked on his spit.

The urge, no NEED, to dominate was strong, making Yoongi swallow audibly as he eyed the doe eyed male.

Pale pink hair the color of cotton candy blended seamlessly with the glow of the now red light they were seated under.

His kimono like robe was tied up loosely, leaning a bit to one side, exposing a slender pale shoulder.

Mascara graced his lashes, only making his big doe eyes more striking.

This…this he could work with.

“Shut up, Luhan. Wu Yifan does not OWN me. _Dragon King_ or not.”

The boy titled Luhan curled his fingers around the shoulder of his friend.

“He wants to see you, Taozi.” He said lightly, before squeezing hard enough that ‘Taozi’ winced.

“You best go.” He added, a deceptively friendly smile painting his face.

Tao peeled himself off Yoongi, reluctantly, sniffing as went.

Yoongi wasn't going to lie, more than a little pleased when Luhan made no move to leave, instead coming around to stand before him, looming over his lounging form, eyes fixated on Yoongi.

Namjoon suddenly coughed, turning both his and the other male’s attention to them as he choked over the smoke, gesturing with a lift of his chin over at something from behind them, the direction of the door.

Yoongi followed Namjoon’s line of sight, eyes settling on Taeyang’s half naked form as the ladies at the door scrambled to settle a robe around his shoulders.

Taeyang was smiling graciously at the scantily clad women whose wandering fingers teased at the bared skin.

Unconsciously, Yoongi’s jaw tensed and tears threatening to spill over.

Rather they were from anger or self-pity, he wasn’t sure.

Either way it was quickly souring his mood, even with the haze of the drug filling his mind.

Luhan must have been watching Yoongi because when he turned back around Luhan’s eyes were still on his form.

He smiled down at Yoongi looking up momentarily as he slid something out of the folds of his silk robe. A purple little baggy.

“Open up.” Luhan commanded, sweetly.

Pressing two small orb like pills onto his tongue, he pressed his lips up against Yoongi’s.

They were soft and tasted faintly of artificial strawberry, a taste he could get used to.

Then, Yoongi did as he knew was being bid to do as Luhan’s tongue snaked into his mouth, sucking one of the tiny moist discs into his own mouth before swallowing it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you forget everything but my name, Yoongi-ah.”

Luhan smiled at him, cocking his head to the side before he was spiriting away. Yoongi watched in blatant appreciation for a moment, mesmerized by the sway of his hips before he saw the man pause outside a curtained room, crooking his fingers at Yoongi.

Yoongi swallowed, body thrumming in anticipation, catching Namjoon’s red rimmed eyes.

“You better follow him, hyung.” Namjoon’s voice came thickly, dripping with amusement.

Yoongi returned the smile, pushing himself off the leather sofa.

He hoped whatever the hell Luhan had slipped him wouldn’t land him in a ditch somewhere.

As he crossed to Luhan, the slighter male took his lapels in both hands, pushing him behind the beaded curtain, fingers brushing against his bared pale skin.

Somehow, he was beginning to think Luhan was going to be right about one thing.

He was going to forget every damn thing.

As he sang his teeth against the sumptuous space behind the other man's ear, a low moan filling the air, he was pretty sure he felt his mind go blank of anything that wasn’t _Luhan_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this.....worry not another update will be coming VERY soon!


	7. Wont You Come For Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows he shouldn't do this.  
> He really shouldn't.  
> But he just can't help himself.

 

 

He saw him.

How could he not?

Leaving with that little… twink, making for the beaded curtains.

He pretended he didn’t see him the moment he stepped foot in the place, despite his eyes being inexplicably drawn to the curtain of blonde in the far right corner of the room.

Jiyong was pushing him forward as he gathered the robe around himself, not bothering to tie it.

He was proud of his body.

He liked to flaunt it.

Some might consider his wardrobe choices a bit too limited with the gratuitous amount of skin he liked to bare but he had never heard anyone complain.

In fact it was usually quite the opposite.

One flash of his skin usually drew the people around him in like a moth to a flame.

Clearly, not everyone had gotten the memo.

Because there that little bastard was, sneaking off under the haze of smoke.

 

*

 

He really shouldn’t be doing this. He really shouldn’t.

But Taeyang couldn’t talk himself out of it as he drew nearer to the same stupid beaded curtain he’d seen him disappear through.

He didn’t even have enough drugs in him for this. Or alcohol for that matter.

Later, if he asked himself, he’d probably blame it on the fumes.

Or temporary insanity.

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan, he thought.

“Yoongi-ah. Right there—please—AH…“

“Fuck.”

Well, he’d found them, _now what_?

He silently stalked nearer to the sliding door, they’re forms mere shadows against the traditional rice paper walls.

Highly erotic shadows, but shadows nonetheless.

There was a crack at the door, just enough for Taeyang to peer in if he really focused.

Why the fuck he thought this would be a good idea, he wasn’t sure, he just knew he needed… more.

More Yoongi.

 _No_ , he chastised himself.

Just more.

You don’t ask questions you aren’t ready to answer.

He could see them, the way Yoongi had Luhan splayed out against the table, with Luhan’s robe half untied as Yoongi flicked a tongue over Luhan’s nipple, carefully suckling, earning the little mewls ripping from Luhan’s throat.

Yoongi’s chest was bare, his red silken robe laying lifelessly on the floor, forgotten.

So much pale bare skin, the dark spikes in Yoongi’s ears the only contrast.

Luhan’s nails dug against the fabric pulled taught against Yoongi’s ass, pulling him thrush against him, seeking more friction.

Though it was obvious Luhan was wearing absolutely nothing under that damn robe…

“Op-pa!” Hyorin whined in front of him, her robe haphazardly falling off her shoulders revealing the cute pert cleavage with greater intensity.

“Hyorin.” He said, more than a little breathlessly, as he flushed, backing away from the door, keeping his voice as low as possible.

But, clearly, Hyorin didn’t understand that concept.

“Where have you been all night, Bae? I’ve been waiting for you.” She pouted prettily, voice shrill to Taeyang’s ears.

He prayed to whatever deity might be up there listening to his unlucky soul that the two men in the room just before them did not here a damn thing.

“Yoongi-ah! Please…”

_Oh god._

Had he put it in yet?

He was probably putting it in.

Taeyang bit at his bottom lip to keep his groan stifled.

Hyorin cocked her head, her suddenly curious eyes focusing on the door just behind him.

He didn’t dare let her mind wander for long before he was grabbing at her wrist, pulling her into the room beside the one Yoongi was currently occupying.

You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat, and all that.

“Well, they’re a couple who knows what they want.” Hyorin grinned, tracing little circles into Taeyang’s chest.

Taeyang cleared his throat.

Well, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

It was _him_ who didn't know what he wanted.

It was _him_ who was fucked up.

He wasn’t sure what was more fucked up: the fact that he was totally grossed out by the idea….or at least he was supposed to be or that…

“You made me wait a week, oppa. You couldn’t get it up for a week.” Hyorin sunk down to her knees before him as her eyes caught on the tent in his pants.

“But I’m here now.” Taeyang said, carding his fingers through her long hair. "I'm ready now."

He wished it was shorter, blonder.

It would make things easier to pretend.

"Let's not waste it."

Hyorin nodded slowly as her hands set to work on his zipper.

He could hear the heavy panting from next door.

“Fuck me, Yoongi-ah. Please?”

Taeyang swallowed audibly as Hyorin reached inside his pants to pull out his hardened cock, smiling before she set her mouth hovering against the tip.

“Are you ready, baby?” Yoongi’s voice came gruffly, and Luhan whimpered which Yoongi must have taken as an answer in the affirmative.

He could picture it now:

Luhan splayed fully across the table now while Yoongi cocked his bony hips to press against Luhan’s hole, slick with spit or lube. _Or both_.

It was then that she took him in, his cock head being sucked into her mouth with surprising intensity.

He wanted to groan, really he was dying to groan when… he found Yoongi doing it for him.

Jesus, the sound made him harder, as if that were fucking possible.

“So fucking tight.” Yoongi growled, the sound muffled, as if spoken into skin.

Taeyang couldn’t help himself as he latched onto Hyorin, pulling her mouth off his dick with a lewd pop, flipping her around, as she scrambled for purchase against the wall.

He’d take her from behind.

Flipping her robe up and over her ass, he smiled.

“No panties.” She whispered and he could practically feel her grin.

He pushed into her.

The joys of fucking a woman?

Already pre-lubricated.

He plunged into her heat, and she let out a little moan that had him clapping his hand over her mouth for the rest of their fuck to keep them from discovery.

He could hear him. Yoongi, heavy breathing as he fucked into Luhan with squelching noises loud enough to reverberate in his ears for the next few weeks.

He matched Yoongi stroke for stroke, having timed Yoongi’s rhythm to each of Luhan’s little whimpers.

He was close, Taeyang knew, when his thrusts picked up intensity.

Luhan was crying out now, Yoongi’s name becoming some sort of fucked up little mantra.

“More. Yoongi, _more_.”

Yoongi chuckled, a rich, raspy sound that had Taeyang keening as he pushed deeper into Hyorin's tightness.

“Like that, huh? I found it, didn’t I? Your prostate?”

Luhan could only whine in response, coming out as a mutilated _yes_.

The sound of skin slapping against skin in a violent fashion told Taeyang he was ready.

Yoongi was going to come.

Scratch that, _they_ were going to fucking come.

Yoongi and him were going to fucking come _together_.

The thought was delicious and way to fucking tempting for him not to explore and bring to fruition as the pleasure gripped him.

Taeyang closed his eyes, throwing his head back in wild abandon as he pounded into Hyorin’s walls who continued to moan obscenely into his palm.

He heard Luhan cry out first.

“Yoongi-AH….”

Yoongi continued to fuck into the smaller boy, breath heavier and harsher as he sucked in air.

“Fuuuuuuck.” Yoongi groaned, his breath catching up to him.

Taeyang saw stars as the sound filled his ears.

That was the hardest he ever fucking came.

So hard that he had paid no attention to the fact that Hyorin had gone limp around him ages ago.

They collapsed to the floor, Taeyang laying on his back looking up at the ceiling.

Hyorin crawled her way over to him, giggling silently.

 

 

“What in God’s name did you feed me...er…?”

“Luhan.” The man before him offered with a chuckle, his post orgasm glow making him look so fucking ethereal.

Or maybe it was this drug.

Who fucking knew?

“Ah. Yeah.” Yoongi scratched at the back of his neck, wholly uncomfortable as they tugged their clothing back on.

It appeared neither were the cuddly type.

At least not in this particular setting.

But hell if he didn’t want to what they just did again.

Or maybe a million times over.

“It’s my own private blend. A bit of this and a bit of that.” Luhan smirked as he tied the silky knot over his golden hued robe. He tugged Yoongi forward, fingers walking up his chest.

“But it’s just enough to make you forget the things you want to forget, and focus on the things you don’t.” Luhan murmured, punctuating the sentence with a flick of Yoongi’s nose.

With that he sauntered out of the room, Yoongi following shortly after, a huge gummy smile pasted on his face.

Oh yeah.

Fucking inspiration acquired.

 

Taeyang let out a breath as he heard the door to the room beside them shut with the quiet slide of wood against wood.

Hyorin was nestled against him arm, content and in her own state of post orgasm bliss.

Or… so he thought.

She sat up, arms stretching out before she pulled herself into an upright position as Taeyang lounged backwards, leaning on his forearms for support, blissfully fucked out.

“I thought they’d never leave.”

Taeyang glanced over at her curiously, trying his best to keep the panic out of his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Bae. I won’t ever tell anyone you need to listen to two men fucking to get it up for me.”

She giggled as the blood drained from his face.

She bent down over his form, face hovering just before his.

“Think of how embarrassing that would be for me.” She laughed, poking his forehead with her index finger.

She straightened her form out, standing at her full height, merriment still evident in her features.

“The real question is…which one is it?” she quizzed, grinning when Taeyang made no comment, rooted to the spot.

Her eyes held his, gaze questioning, searching for something in his face, something in his features that he had no time to mask.

He let out a breath of relief when her face broke into laughter.

“You should see your face right now, Bae. You looked so fucking scared.” She held her sides, as they ached from all the fun she was having at his expense.

He smiled.

She thought it was a joke.

She had to.

Otherwise, he was _fucked_.

Not literally, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS!
> 
> New chapter is up, how did you like it?  
> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I think Taeyang is slowly evolving....give him a chance lol. Sexual identity crises are hard! (literally) lmao.
> 
> Thank you for reading, stay tuned, and just know your comments and kudos give me life! LIFE I TELL YOU!


	8. Gross Anatomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taeyang may or may not be coming to terms with the fact that he wants to fuck the shit out of one Min Yoongi...

 

 

 

Taeyang paced the floor. He hated pacing, but at this point it was the only thing he could do. He had no one to talk to about this.

Well…that was probably a lie. He had a couple of other people he could to talk to about this but the idea of pouring his newfound sexual desires to someone who’d been this particular game for years, like Jiyong, just didn’t sound appealing.

How did you tell your best friend you wanted to fuck the shit out of one Min Yoongi?

Was there a way to say that tactfully?

Taeyang’s cheeks flushed at the prospect, his skin getting all tight and itchy at the thoughts creeping into his mind. He remembered Yoongi and Luhan in vivid detail. Yoongi had left the party shortly after his little secret rendezvous, making a stealthy exit with his taller white haired companion, Kim… something or other in tow.

A few hours later he’d found their maknae, Seungri, stumbling out of the back rooms, legs weak and trembling. Taeyang had (embarrassingly enough) scooped the mess of the other man into his arms and carried him back to the large apartment he shared with Dae and Seungri.

Though he had attempted to slip Seungri into bed and escape unscathed, as the younger man was clearly coming down from a rather nasty high, Seungri had insisted on a shower instead.

After lugging Seungri down the hall, he leaned Seungri against the vanity as he worked to start the shower, sighing into the spray.

“I can manage this much so just get the fuck out.” Seungri barked.

Taeyang eyed the younger man suspiciously and Seungri heaved his own sigh in return, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry…” he muttered, moving to begin to undress.

Taeyang shook his head, offering a tight smile.

Which is how he landed where he was now, pacing the living room floor up and down, thoughts racing around in his head fast enough to give him whiplash.

He was frantic by the time Seungri came out of the shower, dressed in black basketball shorts and a white tank top, a towel slung around his neck as he used one end to rub against his short blonde locks, damp from the shower.

Seungri looked up at Taeyang, catching his eyes which evidently looked as panicked as Taeyang felt because it caused the other man to comment on it.

“You alright, hyung?”

Taeyang looked at Seungri bewildered. _Was he caught? Was it really that obvious that he was thinking how eerily similar Seungri’s blonde locks looked to Yoongi’s?_

“I’m…” Taeyang started to say fine but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “I’m not actually.”

Seungri nodded slowly, eyes trained on Taeyang, waiting.

“What I’m about to tell you—you might find kind of gross. Actually, you’ll probably find it pretty gross… maybe I shouldn’t tell you.” Taeyang hesitated.

Seungri averted his eyes, a soft chuckle escaping his throat, a sound that was far from happy or amused. Rather, it seemed kind of sad.

“Can’t be much worse than my night, hyung. So, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me your gross story and I’ll tell you mine.”

Seungri glanced up at him, eyes appraising.

Taeyang took a deep breath before the words flew out of his mouth.

“IwanttofuckMinYoongi…” he said on an exhale, the words all blending together as if he didn’t say them quickly enough he wouldn’t be able to get it out.

“Min Yoongi… the short blonde rapper kid from Bangtan?” Seungri clarified.

Taeyang nodded. Seungri nodded his understanding. How much more fucking awkward could this get?

“Tonight… I fucked Hyorin listening to him fuck some other guy.” Taeyang shot his eyes over to Seungri, raising them from where they had been trained on the floor. “I came harder than I ever have in my life.”

Taeyang breathed out a heavy exhale. That was enough for now. How crazy was it he felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he drank in the maknae’s form. Seungri was only staring at him, eyes trained on Taeyang’s face, tongue in cheek. He nodded, averting his eyes once more.

 _Damn it, say something. Say anything. Tell me I’m not fucking crazy. Or stupid. Just something. Tell me something crazy and normal. Something distracting._ Seungri was rubbing his hands together. He was nervous, Taeyang could tell, it had always been one his tells. Seungri whipped his head up, plastered a fake smile on his face, finally deciding a brave front was better than no front.

“I fucked Kim Namjoon.” He delivered rather gracelessly.

Taeyang tried not to choke on his own spit but he couldn’t help himself. He thought he finally regained his composure until…

“Well, he fucked me, actually.”

Taeyang coughed violently into his hand.

“It wasn’t half bad.”

Seungri eyed Taeyang with some degree of mirth. Taeyang was turning an oddly satisfying reddish purple color from the force of his sputtering.

“Jesus, Seungri.” Taeyang cleared his throat, rubbing a hand across his chest.

The smile slipped from Seungri’s face, something Taeyang couldn’t help but notice.

“I thought I was straight, hyung.” Seungri muttered, eyes averted. “It makes me wonder if I ever really knew myself.”

Taeyang eyed Seungri before letting out a sigh, joining Seungri in his fascination with the pattern in which the grain ran in the floorboards at their feet.

“Yeah, me too.”

Seungri glanced up at him, fabric rustling, causing Taeyang to follow suit.

“I can’t bring myself to tell Jiyong yet.”

Taeyang swallowed.

“Yeah, me neither.”

 

*

 

Yoongi had been on fire with the tracks preceding the party, but he felt himself slowly running out of steam as the end of the month neared. He stared at the blank sheet of paper before him.

He balanced the un-used pencil on his upper lip, scrunching his mouth upwards towards his nose, managing to hold it for a good thirty seconds before it fell out of its rather precarious perch and rolled to the further recesses of the studio desk.

Yoongi reached for it when his eyes caught on a familiar looking purple backed track. A track that lay unfinished, waiting for its owner to claim it as promised.

Taeyang didn’t hold a great track record in that regard, now did he?

Yoongi scoffed.

_Never fucking finishing what he started._

It still chafed at him, if he were honest with himself. He knew the elder man had saw him at that party.

He knew Taeyang wanted him. Why he couldn’t he just DO something about it? Why did he have to push Yoongi away so fast? Didn’t the best things come from the things you least expect?

Once more Yoongi scoffed.

_Must be all the muscles. You couldn’t get past them to drill some sense into that thick skull of his._

Yoongi picked up the pencil once more, resuming his childish antics. If anything, it helped him keep his mind off of a certain someone.

_Luhan was probably a better fuck anyway._

“Yoongi…” A voice sounded from the doorway, causing Yoongi to incline his head in that general direction.

The pencil clattered to the ground.

“Taeyang-ssi.” He muttered, with some degree of reverence.

Taeyang sauntered forth awkwardly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands digging deep into the pockets of his loosely fitted jeans.

“I came to see if your offer still stands…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Readers! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Midterms have kept me pretty busy!  
> But I'm back what with the holiday break and all and I shall be writing more and more....writing til my little heart's content. Please....don't be shy and tell me what you think!  
> Love you all! Kudos, comments, and subscribes are appreciated!  
> P.S. Jay Park's new album has been slaying me lately. Expect some Jay Park works soon....


	9. Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Taeyang realizes that the one doing the chasing is a whole lot harder than being the chased.

 

 

 

Yoongi eyed his elder warily because, _damn it_ , even their short time apart and Yoongi’s one night stand with the ever so affectionate Luhan hadn’t put a damper on the yearning his body had for Taeyang.

Still… he refused to let his heart leap before his brain, or any other part of his anatomy.

“Which offer might that be?” he drawled out slowly, leaning back into the warm leather of his rolling chair.

Taeyang took a few cautious steps into the room, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he looked anywhere but at Yoongi.

He’d done some prepping before appearing in front of Yoongi. Took the time to choose his clothes just right, a black v necked tee that showed off the right amount of skin and a good deal of bulging muscle, all while hugging his body in just the right places, the fabric soft and worn. He slicked his hair back out of his face, rimmed his eyes with a little bit of kohl (Yoongi had him beat in that area), and found the biggest damn belt buckle he owned so all attention might be drawn to, what he deemed, his best asset.

 _Prepared for battle I see_ , Yoongi noted.

“Whichever offer gets you in my bed the fastest.” Taeyang was quick to reply.

Straight forward and to the point. Yoongi tried his hardest to pretend the words didn’t go straight to his dick. No pun intended. He turns hastily, eyes falling on the unfinished CD.

“I hate it when people don’t finish the things they start, you know?” Yoongi murmurs, feeling Taeyang’s eyes trained on him.

The silence feels momentarily deafening as words stay paused on lips, the air feeling too heavy to hold them and their weight.

It’s Taeyang that breaks the silence, hesitant but confidently seeking answers.

“Does this mean you’re going to be one of those people then?”

Yoongi smiles at that.

Because it’s starting now, isn’t it?

“Depends.”

Taeyang’s eyes narrow to slits as he assesses Yoongi.

“On what?”

Yoongi sighs, rolling himself out from under the desk and sauntering over in Taeyang’s general direction, their collaboration track in hand. He pulls himself to a stop beside Taeyang, thrusting the CD into his solar plexus, leaving Taeyang to fumble for a good grasp on it.

“On how hard you’re willing to work for it.”

And in Taeyang’s mind, all he hears is: _Saddle up, bitch, this means war_.

 

*

 

At this stage of the game, Taeyang is not above any depraved thing his mind can come up with because it’s been three weeks and he’s yet to crack Yoongi.

To put it short, it’s been driving Taeyang mad.

He’s done everything he can to assault the boy’s senses from cornering him in dark corners of various music program stages, dusty broom closets, bathrooms, and anywhere else he can assert his general male-ness under some guise of privacy to sending him selcas of his, well, _finer anatomy_.

But nothing seemed to work. It left Yoongi unfazed for the most part. The kid must have gotten off on it somehow.  The desperation Taeyang was feeling was no joke. The way he actually CRAVED Yoongi’s body without even having tasted it (or even ever touched another male for that matter) was driving him insane.

Something had to give. So, that explains why he was tailing Yoongi and his companion, Namjoon (that blonde, annoyingly tall bastard that had recently been having weird and very LOUD freaky sex with Seungri), to wherever it was they were going.

He stopped short of the bar Seungri frequented as the other two made their way inside.

It appeared to be just the two of them, which really shouldn’t bother him, considering he knew Namjoon was most definitely satisfied with Seungri, but for some inexplicable reason it did.

He didn’t like that Yoongi could dismiss him so easily. Taeyang had never been one to fade into the background. Certainly not the type to be stalking another man… at least not without making himself well known just whom he was preying on.

_Fuck it._

_I’m going in._

He waited until Yoongi made his way to the bathroom, three drinks in.

He had watched, with calculated eyes, the way Yoongi’s hand had clamped onto Namjoon’s shoulder with such familiarity, letting out quiet little laughs when the taller male made a joke. It made Taeyang sick.

Or rather it made him see red.

Because he’d had enough.

So, that was how Yoongi found himself up against the tiny one stalled bathroom door, Taeyang’s fingers clenched in his shirt as he pressed his body into his roughly, lips sucking at his throat.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Bae, what the fuck are you doing here?” Yoongi groaned, his face making a pretty little scrunch as Taeyang ground his hips into him rather roughly.

Not that it wasn’t delightful, but Yoongi refused to fall prey so easily to Taeyang’s temper.

“You don’t make things easy do you, Yoongi-ah?” Taeyang whispered into the pale skin of Yoongi’s neck, just below his ear. He didn’t allow much time for a response either, tongue flicking over the piercings on Yoongi’s left lobe.

Biting his lip to stifle a moan as Taeyang nibbled at a bit of skin just behind his ear, it took all his strength to shove at Taeyang, putting as much space between them as one can get when you’re in a bathroom stall. Taeyang looked confused, with his lips a tad puffier than before, eyes taking that odd glint of a man seeking release. Desperate, confused, angry, aroused… and it lit a fire in Yoongi. But he was nothing if he didn’t manage some semblance of control. Something he clearly needed to do as Taeyang wasn’t exactly thinking… straight.

 “Easy, huh?” Yoongi scoffed as he kept his eyes trained on the other male. Taeyang was oddly still, like a panther poised to strike at his prey. It was oddly terrifying and strangely exciting all in the same breath. Nevertheless, Yoongi continued.

“You don’t like men, hyung.” It was less of a question and more of a statement. He waited, for what he wasn’t sure. A contradiction, a denial, a confirmation… something. Anything to end the agony of deafening silence on Taeyang’s part.

“I don’t.” he assented, but Yoongi couldn’t force himself to leave because the way Taeyang held him in his gaze told him that it wasn’t the end of this conversation.

Why this conversation was so important, Yoongi really didn’t know, nor did he care to analyze it.

“I don’t like men…” and then Taeyang was crossing over to Yoongi, fingers looping into the belt loops of Yoongi’s jeans and tugging him forward so that there cocks bumped together in their general hardness, even through his jeans, he could feel Taeyang. But Yoongi swallowed down the whimperin favor of an audible gulp as one of Taeyang’s hands fingered his waist band.  

“But I want YOU.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long guys. It's been a lot of prep for finals and what not and I finally got 2 out of the five I have to sit for out of the way. Anyway, I will be working on a lot of updates and some other fics that have been nagging at me to get out of my head.  
> Sigh, the life of a fanfic author...  
> But I wouldn't trade it for the world as these boys(or men) and writing and romance (and smut) make life enjoyable. 
> 
> Because without passion, life can be rather dull.  
> Love you all!  
> Let me know what you think!


	10. Close Confines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taeyang FINALLY gets that cookie. ;)

 

 

 

The short jaunt to their dorm felt much longer and significantly more tortuous than Yoongi ever remembered. The quick glances he’d stolen to peer over at Taeyang had him noticing how antsy the older man appeared, his head turning one way and then the other, constantly looking over his shoulder. Yoongi just smiled softly to himself. _What an idiot_.

“Taeyang-ssi, we’re going to _fuck_ , not murder somebody.” Yoongi said, exasperated, halting his steps.

“Calm the fuck down. No one will see you. And if they do who the fuck cares?” Yoongi crooked his head forward, peering out under his blonde fringe.

“ _Hyung_ , the whole world knows you’re straight.”

At that Taeyang relaxed, but he couldn’t help noting the strange crack in Yoongi’s voice as he said the words that were meant to put him at ease. To be honest, it made Taeyang feel like shit. But Yoongi was still staring at him, eyebrows raised in expectancy.

“Right, yeah, I’m good.” He hastily assured him.

Yoongi’s gummy smile spread across his face and Taeyang felt his stomach do weird little flips. _Fuck,_ he was cute when he smiled.

Taeyang pushed the thought aside, because there wasn’t supposed to be anything _cute_ about someone who was about to suck his dick. Sexy, maybe, hot, definitely, but not _cute_.

Wordlessly, Yoongi led them forward, up a narrow staircase into a decidedly non-descript concrete building, opening a dark red door to reveal a relatively decent sized common area that branched off in to multiple rooms. Bedrooms, he supposed, his mouth practically watering at the idea. There were four, two on either side of the space and a kitchen off to their immediate right.

“Which one is yours?” Taeyang murmured. Yoongi pointed to a door at the far right corner of the room. Taeyang swallowed.

He was really about to do this. Slipping off his shoes, he followed a silent Yoongi, feet padding softly against the wooden slatted floor.  

Yoongi stopped short just outside of his bedroom door, turning to his left. There two figures lay sprawled out on the couch. Yoongi just snorted, eyes rolling at the sight.

“And Hoseok says he’s straight now.” The blonde boy muttered as Taeyang turned his eyes to the two unidentifiable snoring forms huddled together on the small sectional.

“Straight bullshit, maybe.”

With that Yoongi slipped behind his bedroom door, tugging at Taeyang’s wrist, who took his first few hesitant steps into the room Yoongi occupied.

The older man’s eyes flitted around the room, which was haphazardly tidy save for the desk in the corner, which was littered with papers, the shiny glint of CD’s, and the soft whirring of a laptop could be heard buried underneath. The walls were sparsely decorated, the only posters up were of artists Taeyang had never heard of. The bed across the way from them had clothes strewn across it, along with several hats. Meaning, he had a roommate. A moment of panic flooded Taeyang. What if his fucking roommate came home? His eyes flicked over at Yoongi, who regarded him with a hooded gaze.

“My roommate, Hoseok…” he jerked his thumb behind him at the door. “…is a heavy sleeper. Given the hour, he is rather unlikely to wake until morning.”  

His roommate was fucking HERE and just a door away?

“Not to worry, though, we have a strong sense of bro code.” Yoongi continued.

“Bro code?” Taeyang asked incredulously.

“If the door is locked it means… we’re busy.”

 _Fuck_. Was this kid for real?

Yoongi eyed Taeyang, waiting for his answer. To what, Taeyang was unsure. At least was unsure until Yoongi crossed the room, taking his hands in his only to place them firmly at Yoongi’s own hips, sinking his thumbs into the waistband of Yoongi’s jeans.

“What about your other friend?” Taeyang swallowed, thinking of the tall thick lipped blonde Yoongi had left at the bar.

“Friend?” Yoongi murmured absent mindedly, as he slid his hands up underneath Taeyang’s shirt to skim along his well-muscled sides, causing Taeyang to shiver.

“N-namjoon?”

Yoongi’s face was annoyingly stoic as he nodded, continuing his very physical perusal as he caught Taeyang’s gaze.

“Ah. Namjoon.”

The blonde boy brought his lips to ghost over Taeyang’s, staring at them intently.

“He’ll be alright, don’t you think. Since you’re gone, he’ll have Seungri all to himself.”

At this point Yoongi’s hands had long since trailed up his chest and down again, where they lay at present, pressing into the dips leading to his groin, nails leaving little crescent moon marks. Taeyang’s mind was all too muddled to come up with any more excuses at the moment, but the sheer anxiety of the situation must have still been present in his features because Yoongi’s mouth worked to soothe him, fingers working deftly at his zipper.

“Don’t think so hard.” The blonde whispered breathily. The younger boy mouthed at Taeyang’s jawline.

“There’s only one thing we need hard in this situation.” Yoongi smiled, catching Taeyang’s eyes, who glanced at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth in effort to stifle a groan at the insinuation. When the button popped free, Taeyang let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, an embarrassing- _very manly_ \- whimper on his lips. A whimper that made Yoongi smile that filthy grin once more.

“Do you want to fuck me, hyung?” Yoongi asked, voice a bit husky, but much more stable than Taeyang’s was sure to be.

“Yes.” He grunted, as it was the only thing he could really manage as Yoongi’s fingers reached past the waistband of his black boxer briefs to curl around his cock.

“Say it. Say the words.” Yoongi insisted, his voice cracking, breathy little hitches betraying the lust Taeyang found mirrored in the younger boy’s eyes.

Honestly, it was a struggle to think of anything other than the words _Fuck_ and _Yes_. But somehow, Taeyang managed to steady his voice long enough to utter them.

“I want to fuck the shit out of you Yoongi-ah.”

Yoongi hummed, gummy smile making its re-appearance. He drug Taeyang’s boxers down then, which puddled at his feet, pausing to appreciate his well-toned thighs. When Yoongi stayed huddled on the floor, on his knees before Taeyang, his mouth ran away with him.

“Yoongi-ah….please.” he posed the question with as few words as possible, cock standing angry and proud just inches shy of Yoongi’s thinly stretched lips. Yoongi eyed the length in question, gaze hungry, before flicking his eyes back up to Taeyang.

“Please what?” Yoongi gazed up at him, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“What do you want Bae?”

Taeyang swallowed but knew that he ought to have checked his pride at the door the moment he touched Yoongi many months ago. So, once more when he opened his mouth, the words tore out of him. Only this time it was much more like a floodgate opening.

“Take me in your mouth, Yoongi. Please.” His eyes pierced Yoongi, the younger man’s lips lifting in a strange sort of half smile before he settled comfortably at Taeyang’s feet, his hands braced against the back of Taeyang’s thighs, lips stretching across the dusky pink head of Taeyang’s dick.

“Fuck, Yoongi.” He moaned, unashamed, as Yoongi’s mouth slid down to take him in further as Taeyang relished in the feeling of himself being expertly plunged into soft, wet heat.  

“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks.” And he carded his fingers through Yoongi’s blonde fringe. The words were coming unbidden because for some strange fucking reason he couldn’t help himself. He felt Yoongi chuckle, a sort of humming feeling around his length and it made him all that much harder.

“Ever since that day in the studio. I came to the thought of your lips around my dick but... _fuck_ , you’re so fucking good at this.”

He looked down at Yoongi, eyes glassy as they locked with Taeyang’s, the elder’s dick shoved half way down his throat. Taeyang thought he could come right then, the thought of coming into the warm folds of Yoongi’s mouth more than appealing. It was feeling he simply _had_ to voice.

“God, I could come down your throat right now.” At that Yoongi’s tongue flicked around his length as he began a rhythmic bob of his head, eyes still locked on Taeyang.

“Or paint your pretty face with my come.” He groaned as Yoongi suckled at the head with a surprising pressure, tonguing the slit languorously, as if savoring the salty bits of liquid he drew forth.

“You’d look so good covered in my come, Yoongi-ah.” Taeyang groaned and once more Yoongi hummed around him.

At this, Taeyang fisted his hands into Yoongi’s hair, holding his head still as he pistoned his hips forward, fucking into Yoongi’s mouth. He smiled at the way Yoongi looked as he shoved his dick into the younger’s mouth, even daring to shove it roughly into his cheek, liking the way his length look when pressed into the stretchy skin there. Yoongi’s lips were slick with spit when Taeyang pulled himself from Yoongi’s mouth with a rather lewd pop.

Taeyang took Yoongi’s jaw into his grip, tugging him upward, a smile plastered on the blonde boy’s face. The elder man drew Yoongi’s shirt up and over his head, anxious to get his hands on the wide expanse of pale skin. He pushed Yoongi back onto the nearest bed, whether it was his or his roommates, Taeyang couldn’t be bothered to ask nor care, and, as it appeared, neither could Yoongi.

Taeyang wrenched the blonde boy’s boxers and jeans down in one foul swoop, before drawing his own shirt up and over his head with great relish. A slow smile crept across his face as brought himself to hover over Yoongi’s naked body.  

“I’m going to fuck you now, Min Yoongi.”

The smile on Taeyang’s lips sent shivers of anticipation down Yoongi’s spine and his breath hitched. He was hard as fuck and all he’d done was blown the guy.

Taeyang lowered his body to cover Yoongi’s inch for inch, their body heat intermingling, making the little receptors set off little fireworks in his gut and a deep pooling settling into his dick.

“Then quit fucking talking and do it already.” Yoongi produced a bottle of lube he knew Hoseok kept hidden under the pillow.

He hoped his roommate would forgive him, but he was about to get laid, and by Taeyang of all people. He didn’t give a fuck when or where at this point because it was sure to be the lay of his fucking _life_.  

When Taeyang pressed to slicked fingers against the outside of his hole, circling the perimeter, he whimpered.

Yep, he’d apologize later. Right now, he fucking needed this.

“Where the hell did you learn this?”

Taeyang eyed him, amused. Yoongi grabbed at his fingers, orienting them before thrusting them inside. Yoongi bit his lip to stifle a moan. He’d save that for later. Taeyang stared in abject fascination, watching the way Yoongi’s ass swallowed his fingers almost greedily. It felt fucking tight. So much tighter than anyone (or anything) else he’d ever fucked.

“Stretch me.” Yoongi prompted and Taeyang complied, spreading his fingers apart to the best of his ability. Taeyang inserted one more finger, stretching Yoongi as he felt around the smooth muscled walls of his insides. He crooked his fingers as they began to cramp and Yoongi cried out a bit at the subtle movement. Taeyang smiled.

“Prostate?” He muttered and Yoongi nodded weakly. Taeyang brushed his fingers against the spot insistently after that, watching as Yoongi became increasingly more wrecked. His lips were running dry, still plump and pink from the kissing, tongue darting out to wet them despite the lack of saliva. His pupils looked blown, eyes glassy, Taeyang’s name falling from his lips in a quiet little broken moans.

“ _Bae…BAE…bae_ …please…”

Before much longer, Yoongi would come and as much as Taeyang would love to watch Yoongi come apart he wanted to FEEL it even more. Taeyang shifted to align his cockhead against Yoongi’s ass, having carelessly slathered himself in lube, bits dribbling onto the bed sheets in his haste to get inside of Yoongi.

With one glorious thrust he was sheathed inside Yoongi, Yoongi’s cock sandwiched between them.

“Fuck.” He cursed, trying to deny the urge to simply rut inside of Yoongi but knowing he needed a little time to adjust, as he watched the blonde boy’s face.

“Yeah.” Yoongi winced, waiting for his body to accommodate Taeyang’s girth.

Taeyang experimentally began to thrust and Yoongi allowed for the movement, a few thrusts in and he was moaning rather obscenely beneath the elder man, which was music to Taeyang’s ears. He fucked into Yoongi, chanting his name like some sort of twisted little mantra.

“ _Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi_ , fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

He peered down at the face of the boy beneath him, his eyes scrunched shut in pleasure as his nails dug into Taeyang’s bare ass, pulling him in deeper.

“Look at me, Yoongi.” Taeyang murmured, pausing his ministrations, awaiting compliance. Yoongi blinked his eyes open, pulling from his pleasure filled haze to lock eyes with Taeyang.

“Look at me while I fuck you, Yoongi-ah, while I’m _inside_ you.” Taeyang murmured.

Yoongi complied, their eyes never straying from eachother as Taeyang pounded into Yoongi’s tight hot walls, his cock bobbing between them neglected. Taeyang shifted downward, the blunt tip of his cock stretching into Yoongi’s ass, managing to brush against at his prostate, making Yoongi cry out before he was biting at his lip, making it bleed to stifle the noise. Taeyang grinned, milking Yoongi’s sweet spot until he felt the boy go still in his arms, body clenching as he came crying out “Bae. _Fuck, Bae_.”

Taeyang grinned, leaning forward to suck at the blonde boy’s bleeding lip as he thrust himself into Yoongi’s tightened hole with abandon before he finally spilled into Yoongi.

He collapsed atop Yoongi, not even remotely grossed out by the fact that Yoongi’s come was sticky and warm and now painted across both of their stomachs. He mouthed at the pale skin of Yoongi’s chest as they came down from their post orgasmic high. He lay nestled inside Yoongi’s ass, growing hard again by the second when the door clicked open followed by a high pitched whine.

Both he and Yoongi turned their heads towards the door in abject horror.

“Really, guys? You had to use _my_ bed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this particular update!  
> Also enter: the comedic relief.  
> And I also might be saying that someone is catching feelings!  
> LOL. Tell me what you think (don't be shy)!  
> Please comment, kudo, and subscribe.  
> Love you all <3


	11. Loose Hips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Taeyang realizes once is never enough.

 

Yoongi could only watch when Taeyang had fled the scene, face turning a color that would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the sudden hard lump that he was struggling to swallow around.

 _Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry_ , he scolded himself.

Hoseok’s eyes widened as Taeyang wordlessly gathered each clothing item onto his body and then pushed past the brunette haired rapper, leaving without so much as a backwards glance at Yoongi.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean—“Hoseok started but the words faltered as Yoongi held a hand up.

He listened, remaining as quiet as possible for the harsh click of the foyer door. When it came, Yoongi’s face crumpled listlessly.

“Oh, Yoongi-ah…” Hoseok came to him, enfolding the blonde haired boy in his arms.

Yoongi allowed himself to cry into Hoseok’s familiar shoulder, tears silent save for that odd sniffle or two, mostly because he refused to cry like a little bitch for someone totally unworthy. Especially when he didn’t even have a reason to be crying.

They both got what they wanted, hadn’t they? They’d gotten it out of their systems. But strangely, Yoongi felt empty. It was a foreign feeling for him, if he were being honest.

“Fuck that guy.” He sniffled once his eyes began to dry at long last and he felt Hoseok’s rumble deep in his chest.

“You already did, quite thoroughly I might add.” Hoseok said cheekily. Yoongi gave him a half-hearted shove, a smile ghosting on his lips.

“No seriously, I could hear you moaning from the living room. You are always so fucking loud, Yoongi-ah.” Hoseok chastised, eyes full of amused annoyance.

“Mmmm… it made you miss me, didn’t it?” Yoongi grinned.

Hoseok smiled like the sun shone out of his ass and it made Yoongi’s grin go even wider.

“A bit, yeah.”

Yoongi smiled, eyes averted, words having suddenly disappeared because this was not the answer he’d been expecting.

They couldn’t do this again. They really couldn’t. If they did, Yoongi might end up far more broken than he already was and he’d just begun re-assembling the pieces from the last time…

“Ya, what’s with you calling me so informally, huh? Its hyung, Yoongi-hyung.” He drawled out, injecting his voice with enthusiasm he didn’t really feel but had to convince Hoseok of. Otherwise, the other boy might stay and end up doing something dangerous like comforting Yoongi in the only way Hoseok knew how: physically.

Somehow, Hoseok seemed to buy it, his golden sunshine smile returning in full force before returning to mock disgust.

“I don’t think that’s really necessary given what is likely to have permanently been burned into my retinas.” Hoseok whined, leaning back onto his bed. To be honest Yoongi could have warned him but the face he made when his hand slid into something rather wet and a little slimy was far too priceless.

“Might have permanently stained your sheets as well.” Yoongi grinned, taking in Hoseok’s grimace. The younger man lunged at Yoongi, his dirtied hand distanced from himself, but Yoongi made a clean, quick getaway.

“Happy washing.” He couldn’t resist adding as he slipped out the door.

The soiled sheets hit the back of the door with a thud just as his face disappeared behind it.

“Disgusting…” Hoseok murmured. “Who’s is this even?” Hoseok whined aloud.

 _Like it matters_.

 

*

Taeyang wasn’t sure what proper protocol after a booty call with a man was, though he was pretty sure he’d completely mutilated any form of etiquette. To put it simply he’d been a complete ass. He’d essentially performed what Jiyong affectionately termed a “pump and dump”. He didn’t have to ask to know what that meant, nor did he bother to explain his current situation. Especially not now, nearly two weeks after the incident, despite having spent many nights trying to rationalize the incident.

He’d had his fill, Min Yoongi was out of is system. That had been his mantra for the last 12 nights when his mind wandered to the events only witnessed by the dimly lit white walls of Yoongi’s dorm room and the boy himself. Yep, he was definitely done experimenting.

That’s why he sat there in the plushy VIP section of one of the clubs Jiyong had dragged them all off to in an attempt to cajole TOP out of his rather sour mood. Hyorin was perched in his lap, ass sheathed in a tight little black skirt, long black tresses flowing down her back in wide curls he was toying with. She was pretty to be sure and Taeyang found his body reacting accordingly.

But it’s nothing compared to…he refused to continue that train of thought and turned his attention to the dance floor when a shock of sea green caught his eye by chance.

No fucking way. He swallowed the words back.

He watched as Yoongi greeted a man over by the bar clad in a fitted white t-shirt and ink that ranged from his wrist and disappeared somewhere beneath the deep V of the neck line. Yoongi clapped hands with him, as the man pulled him into a hug that lingered a little too long, their mutual piercings catching in the light in a fashion that had Taeyang transfixed.

 _Fuck, this kid got around, didn’t he_? Taeyang thought bitterly.

“Bae, what’s got you so interested?” Hyorin commented, noting that his attention had shifted from that of the girl in his lap to something happening in the bar below the VIP area. Her eyes caught upon the same shock of green hair.

“Ah, Jay? Never would have figured you for the masculine type but I suppose he is kind of sexy. You can invite him if you want—“she started, voice in a teasing lilt.

Taeyang nearly unseated her ass before settling on a hard scoff.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

She glanced backwards at him, eyes widening, attempting to become the picture of innocence. She was damn good at it too.

“You like men.”

Taeyang froze. He couldn’t fucking move. Because… literally what the fuck? She was drunk when that whole night at the Lair happened… how the fuck could this have happened? He was in full panic mode now, mind going a mile a minute, trying to grasp a plausible excuse, a reasonable response, something… anything.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He said more firmly.

Hyorin just shrugged, eyes returning to the scene below them where Yoongi was now firmly pressed against Jay’s lithe body moving in sync to the music in a way that looked almost sinful. The whole thing unsettled his stomach as he was reminded of the former blonde once more.

_“I hate dancing.” Yoongi deadpanned._

_“How can anyone hate dancing?”_

_“I’m not any good at it, so it’s easy.”_

_Taeyang strode over to Yoongi, pulling him from his makeshift seat, a smile on his face._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“Anyone can be good at dancing with the right motivation.” Taeyang insisted._

_“ **Hyung**.” Yoongi whined. _

_“Think of it as a form of expressing yourself and how you feel… just like your lyrics.”_

_“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment… it just doesn’t connect in the same way.” Yoongi muttered, sounding 200% done with the situation. Taeyang chuckled._

_“Don’t give up so easy, Yoongi-ah.” He came behind Yoongi, gripping his slim hips in his capable hands. Yoongi stilled immediately, his face turning stony._

_“What are you doing, hyung?” he asked calmly, despite his rigid body posture._

_“Shhh….” Taeyang smiled. “What are you feeling right now?” he asked._

_Yoongi looked at their reflection in the mirror carefully before answering._

_“Nervous.”_

_Taeyang laughed as he began to sway Yoongi’s hips in a circle eight fashion, his own body swaying along behind him._

_“Anything else?”_

_He was close enough to hear Yoongi swallow. Poor kid, he really **was** nervous. _

_“Excited?” Yoongi added, sounding a little unsure and smiling sheepishly when Taeyang felt his smile reach his eyes._

_“You have to keep your hips loose or dancing will continue to be unenjoyable and instead it’ll become painful.”_

_Yoongi grinned that gummy smile Taeyang found so infectious in recent weeks while they recorded the track he was set to perform on a collaboration stage._

_“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”_

Taeyang eyed the pair of them, pulling himself out his memories. The bastard Hyorin had termed Jay had slotted his leg between Yoongi’s parted thighs, the smaller man’s ass flush against him in a way that had Taeyang’s stomach churning and his cock rising all at once. Jay Park. Of course Yoongi would pick someone even he couldn’t fault to fill his place in a mere matter of days. Yoongi threw his head back as Jay’s hands gripped at his hips tightly.

_Just fuck him on the dance floor why don’t you, asshole._

He grunted, moving to turn his eyes away until his eyes caught a small flash of silver at Yoongi’s exposed neck. His eyes became glued to the little bit of metal at his throat.

Was he seriously wearing a fucking choker?

A black lacey choker?

He swallowed his spit, rising from his seat slowly, unseating Hyorin rather unexpectedly. He moved closer to the balcony, unable to tear his eyes from Yoongi as he white knuckled the metal bars caging him in.

He thought he’d had his fill.

Apparently his dick disagreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my updates being so late lately. I did alot of travelling over the holiday and it would have been awkward to write a super steamy smut fic with your mother over your shoulder. (lol) Also, I made the horrid mistake of leaving my laptop charger behind so even if I had wanted to update I'd have to wait until after I got my replacement. In any case, I hope you all enjoy. I'm experimenting with my angsty feels in this fic but don't worry....eventually they'll pull their shit together...soon. <3 Thank you for reading. Think I'm going to end in roughly two chapters....ish. Anyway, be sure to kudo, subscribe, and most of all....comment!


	12. Wreckage

 

 

Yoongi threw his head back in the heat of the moment, the way Jay’s grip on his hips tightened made it all too easy to imagine them belonging to someone else. He knew it was wrong using Jay as a filler of sorts but Jay didn’t seem to mind either way, his inked arms winding around Yoongi’s slim frame, making Yoongi chuckle as Jay mouthed at Yoongi’s pale expanse of neck, their bodies blending into the endless sea of party goers. Jay had never been one to discriminate and he’d never been one to care for labels either, making him the perfect candidate for Yoongi.

They’d done this thing once or twice before and Yoongi would be lying if he said it was anything less than enjoyable. If there was one person to chase Taeyang from his mind, it was Jay.

“Something on your mind, _Suga_?” Jay’s breathed into his ear in a manner that had Yoongi’s brain going a little fuzzy.

Jay always had a thing for Yoongi’s stage name, making into some fucked up form of a pet name both in bed and out of it. Yoongi usually found himself either too aroused or too amused to care at the special connotation the name took whenever he took the time to question it.

It was at that moment Yoongi flicked his eyes open only to catch Taeyang’s rather pointed gaze staring down at him from the balcony.

“And if there was?” he murmured back into Jay’s ear, unable to tear his gaze away from Taeyang for more than a few seconds.

Jay’s eyes followed the upward pathway Yoongi’s gaze led him to, clapping eyes with Taeyang’s rather rabid looking form. Yoongi could feel the smirk that formed on Jay’s lips as he gripped Yoongi’s hips tighter, successfully seating Yoongi against the hard grind of his clothed cock. Jay sent Taeyang a little tip of his head before setting to the task at hand.

“If there was I can think of more than a few things you can set your mind to that are far more interesting.” Jay purred in a tone that sent shivers down his spine.

 _Let the bastard rot_ , Yoongi thought spitefully, intent on letting Jay do just that.

 

*

 

Taeyang wasn’t sure where he was going but he couldn’t stop his feet from moving  after an hour and half of watching Yoongi simultaneously grind, laugh, and smile in the direction of his new favorite companion. At this point Jay must have suggested they leave to find more private accommodations considering the way their ‘dancing’ had only gotten progressively more racy as the night wore on.

But like hell that shit was happening. Taeyang found himself winding through the press of bodies littering the dance floor, tailing Yoongi and Jay as they made their escape towards the exit. He followed silently, footsteps remaining as quiet as possible as they reached the entry hall where Jay was laughingly pinning Yoongi against the wall, the blonde dissolving into a fit of giggles. _Fucking giggles_. Like a damn school girl or some shit, laughing at some inside joke the pair shared.

Taeyang was so angry he wanted to throttle them both. Why the fuck he was angry he didn’t care to analyze. Nor the fact that he’d left Hyorin in a rush to wrench Yoongi from Jay’s side when he saw the beginning of their exit.

But more than any of those things, watching as Jay brought one hand up to Yoongi’s cheek, carefully and lightly stroking it with the pad of his thumb, Taeyang felt his stomach turn, his heart suddenly leaping from its rightful place to sink lower, where he felt it would dissolve in a pit of acid, thus causing the empty pangs he felt in the region of his chest.

A lump formed in his throat as he recognized what this feeling was. He knew this feeling well. No matter how much he didn’t want this, how fucking wrong this was, he knew.

He had feelings for Min Yoongi. Like more than just _I want to fuck you_ feelings. The type of feelings that made him want to castrate anyone else who dared touch him in the way Jay was doing right now. The type of feelings that made him crave something far more than just sex. The type of feelings that had him wanting to know what Yoongi liked for breakfast. Or what he looked like in the morning, fresh from sleep, hair still crumpled.  

Honestly, it was akin to a car wreck and Taeyang found himself unable to look away as Jay’s lips descended upon Yoongi’s who responded to the elder man with sensuous fervor, Taeyang had once been naïve enough to think was reserved for him.

_Just because you not willing to play, doesn’t mean there aren’t others who are._

Yoongi’s words ghosted through Taeyang’s mind, echoing in the frustrating empty feeling caverns of his heart. He forced himself to watch so he could get it through his thick skull.

This is what you crave.

“Bae?” a voice came from behind him, and he turned to find Hyroin’s frame filling his vision.

This is what you _should_ crave.

Hyorin smiled at him, eyes moving past his in question as to what the hell he was doing here. Her eyes seemed to light in understanding, an almost pitying glint taking residence there in place of the tentative smile.

“Bae…” she started hesitantly, and Taeyang grimaced in protest, silencing her effectively.

She moved to him wordlessly then, wrapping her arms around his waist, despite him having stood frozen to the spot, unsure if he even needed consoling, and feeling equally stupid for finding some form of solace in her embrace. Hyorin was warm, familiar, sweetly scented and everything he was used to wanting.

But she wasn’t Yoongi. His eyes betrayed him one last time, flicking over to their right, catching upon the sight of Yoongi’s body arching into the other male’s hard lines.

“Don’t look anymore.” Hyorin’s voice came in a hushed, desperate tone. It wasn’t until she took his face in her hands, kissing his eyes closed, that he felt the wetness seeping from the corners.

_Fuck._

_Was he crying_? He was actually fucking _crying_.

 _Min fucking Yoongi_ … the only man actually capable of reducing him to tears. No, scratch that, the only PERSON, who could reduce him to tears. He’d had so many girls, not one of them eliciting this type of reaction.

 _Jesus._ He rubbed at his eyes dumbly, sniffling as quietly as possible. When he next looked over, Yoongi and Jay were nowhere to be found.

Just his fucking luck.

He was in love with Min Yoongi.

The same Min Yoongi who had just went home with Jay Park.

He sniffled once more before extricating himself from Hyorin’s grasp, gently so as not to hurt her, because clearly he’d done enough.

“Thank you, Hyorin.” He said numbly.

She looked at him intently, as though he was transparent. She’d always been able to see him a little too clearly.

“At least tell me which one it is.” She insisted, her voice getting a little raspy, she was holding back for his sake, he knew, though he didn’t deserve the kindness.

“It’s Yoongi.” He answered simply.

She looked away, eyes averted, nodding simply.

“I figured.” She sniffed, light tears pooling.

“Ever since that night at the Lair.” She elaborated. Taeyang shut his eyes at the intrusion of memories. He’d done nothing but wrong her and here she was calmly discussing this with him.

“It’s been longer than that though, I’d say.” She continued, trying for a smile but it all looked rather watery and Taeyang moved to hug her but she put up a hand to ward him off.

“When someone is special, that’s all there is to it.”

“Just like when someone isn’t enough, they just aren’t.” Hyorin sighed quietly, red lips trembling before valiantly trying for another smile.

“You ARE special. You ARE enough, it’s just that Yoongi….he makes me…”

“Crazy? Unstable? Jealous…?” she provided.

He huffed out a little laugh in response.

“Yeah…”

She smiled through the light glimmer of tears that spilled over the reddened rims of her eyes.

“That’s how it’s SUPPOSED to feel.”

She rubbed at her left arm, a nervous tic she’d always picked up when anxious.

“I’m so sorry.” Taeyang murmured, unable to find the words for anything else.

“I’m just glad you’re finally being honest. If this is how he affects you, I’d rather it be this way. He…he makes you better, Bae-ssi.” She stammered out, voice a bit gravelly.

Taeyang felt bereft of any words fit for comfort, yet Hyorin’s gaze left him feeling like he still owed her something more substantial.

“Isn’t this it?” she mumbled.

“Isn’t this…what?”

She rolled her eyes, tamping her foot impatiently, dabbing at her eyes in between sniffles with a tissue she procured from God knows where.

“The part where you chase after him.”

Taeyang gave her a dumbfounded look before looking over his shoulder at the vacated spot that had once housed Yoongi and Jay.

“GO. I don’t want to see your stupid face anymore anyway.” She feebly smacked at his arm, eyes gathering little pools of tears once more.

“Go get your man.” She insisted. Taeyang carded his hand through her hair once last time, giving her a well-placed soft kiss on her forehead, before turning to chase after the only man daring enough to grab at his heart and his groin simultaneously.

The fact that he never looked back once, confirmed to Hyorin that when it was right, you just knew. She sniffled inwardly once more watching Taeyang’s retreating form before ordering a bottle of wine, stuffing it into her purse, intent on going home to watch re-runs of a drama and crying over a good glass or two of wine.

Oh who was she kidding?

 _More like the whole damn bottle_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taeyang is finally pulling his act together. While I'm not sure I did the Hyorin aspect justice, I did my best. Most people paint her a villian but given she is someone so devoted to Taeyang at the moment it doesn't seem plausible to me. Hope you enjoyed this update....only one more to go and it's sure to be a long one. <3 Don't be shy and tell me what you think! I love your comments and sometimes the stuff you guys say give me inspiration and ideas of a direction in which I could take the story I never thought to explore. Needless to say my readers are awesome! See you again soon!


	13. Hot Mess

 

 

Taeyang pulled up in the confiscated car from the company just as Jay Park was exiting his car. How he knew where the bastard lived, Taeyang was unwilling to divulge, but here he stood. He unclicked his seat belt in a hurry, rushing over to intercept the man he knew would be followed by Yoongi. But as he walked over to Jay, who had rather unimpressed look on his face, there was no Yoongi in sight.

“Where is he?” Taeyang said lowly, dangerously low, but Kay only smirked that irritating smirk, giving him a nonchalant shrug before making his way up his steps.

“WHERE IS YOONGI?!” He screamed, his raised voice echoing in the confines of Jay’s rather secluded hideaway. It was enough to make the man pause, turn around, something curious if not also a little dangerous making its way to play on his features.

“Yoongi, huh? You wanna know where Yoongi is… well he’s not here.” Jay said smartly, hands stuffed into the deep pockets of his gray track pants, as he made his way back down the stairs towards Taeyang.

“Wanna know why?” Jay cocked his head to the side when he reached Taeyang at last. Angry and seemingly blue-balled, Taeyang couldn’t blame the guy.

“Yoongi couldn’t stop blubbering on and on about you. You wrecked the poor guy and he has nothing to show for it. So, if you know him, if you deserve him at all, you’ll know where he is. You’ll know where I left him.” Jay growled, punctuating each line with a jab of a finger into Taeyang’s pecs.

With that hint, Taeyang disappeared from his sight in a flash, not even bothering with a seatbelt.

When he was certain Taeyang was gone, Jay smiled inwardly.

“Fucking kids these days man. They’ll ruin a man’s life, I’m telling you, Raoul.”  Jay muttered, laying a hand against his security guard’s well-muscled shoulder.

“Call a friend over for me, will ya? Gotta take care of this restless energy somehow.”

_Fucking Min Yoongi getting me all hot and bothered. What is the world coming to?_

_*_

 

Yoongi sat in the rolling chair lifelessly, staring up at the plain white ceiling above him in despair.

_How did you fuck a hook-up that badly?_

He cringed inwardly as the events replayed in his mind.

 

Jay had managed to corral the two of them into the car, which was now speeding off in the direction of his house, a place Yoongi was more than familiar with though he’d deny that in a heartbeat if anyone ever asked.

At the present moment, Jay was unable to keep his hands to himself, the partition between them and the driver carefully in place, windows heavily tinted. Jay paid attention to detail almost painstakingly, a quality Yoongi found admirable.

Jay’s lips pressed against Yoongi’s in a manner that had his breath coming in short pants. That or the fact that he was palming Yoongi through his jeans. Really it could have been either one.

The mistake had come when Jay took things a step too far, pulling Yoongi’s bottom lip between his and giving a little suck as he worked to free Yoongi’s dick from its unforgiving denim prison.

Yoongi wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say it. He honestly couldn’t come up with an answer for it himself, despite the fact that he felt he owed it to Jay.

**_“Bae-ssi…”_ **

Jay’s movements had halted then, Yoongi’s gasp effectively killing the atmosphere. Jay’s eyes had widened for a moment. Because this shit didn’t happen. People didn’t confuse Jay with someone else. People didn’t fantasize about someone else when they were with Jay. It just didn’t happen.

So they sat there like that, for a few moments, air stilled between them, movement halted, speech stilted.

“Driver.” Jay’s voice called, his eyes never leaving Yoongi.

“Re-route to the Studio.”

Yoongi swallowed the lump in his throat that formed at yet another rejection, if only because he knew that he actually deserved this one.

 

The car had pulled up to the familiar building, a combination of grey stone and glass without much noise. Still, Yoongi felt things were all too loud, the silence deafening in his ears. He looked at Jay, who caught his eyes with equal intensity but still said nothing. With no way of explaining himself, he moved to make his exit when he felt Jay’s palm clasp at his wrist stilling him, door handle in his sweaty grip.

“You understand right, Yoongi-ah?” Jay’s voice came, almost indifferent sounding if Yoongi didn’t know him better. The fact that he’d bothered to use his given name was a sign that this understanding was important to Jay. So, he turned his eyes back to Jay’s form, giving a small nod.

“Yeah.” He averted his eyes but still Jay kept his firm grip on Yoongi’s arm. Clearing his throat as if he were about to say something of vital importance, despite his discomfort, Jay continued.

“You finally fell for someone, huh?”

Yoongi wanted to be anywhere but in this small confined space with Jay discussing his feelings for a straight man who had only used him to pump one out and then split without so much as a by your leave. Still, when Jay’s eyes refused to leave his he could feel his face begin to crumple, the façade he hid behind for so long was slipping. Without a word more Yoongi was bounding out of the car, wrestling with the door. Jay was quicker, slipping out his side, rounding the car to catch Yoongi’s fleeing body in its entirety.

Given this course of action, Yoongi could take no more, so he let go. Aching, agonizing sobs tore through his body. It felt like his lungs were trying to rip free from his body. All of this, all of this drama and for what? For him to have to finally admit to himself that he was in love with a straight man like a complete fucking idiot. It had to be love, he reasoned. Nothing else would explain why Taeyang and Taeyang alone would satisfy. Why his name kept running around in circles in Yoongi’s brain.

Except shit like this didn’t happen to Yoongi. He didn’t fall in love. He didn’t catch feelings. Because he knew better. He fucking knew better. As if Hoseok hadn’t been enough of a lesson. Yoongi buried his head into Jay’s shoulder, figuring there was no better place to settle until the tears ran dry. Through it all Jay was silent, rubbing soothing circles into Yoongi’s back, cooing unintelligible bullshit at him to try and calm him in case he decide to panic.

“Come on, Yoongi-ah, let’s get you inside.” He murmured, scooping Yoongi up into his arms in a way that made Yoongi want to protest, despite feeling like shit.

Still he let it happen.

 

 

 

It had been some time since Jay had left him. The minute he got Yoongi inside Yoongi seemed to calm down. That and the sheer embarrassment of it all made Yoongi that much more adamant he get Jay out the door as soon as fucking possible. Besides, Jay had merely opened the floodgates and Yoongi refused to let the other be privy to the remainder of his pity festival.

Yoongi turned the album over in his hand thrice before inserting it into the disc drive, staring broodingly at the flicker of the little green light as he waited for it to pop open. He fed the disc into the machine and the beginning swell of the music started.

“ _Mianhae, mianhae, hajima_ ….” He mouthed absentmindedly, liquid gathering at his eyes once more.

Fuck. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.

 He flicked at the pencil in his near vicinity as he felt the hot tears seep over the edges and spill down his cheeks, letting out a garbled sigh and a watery smile contrary to what he felt.

He wanted to smash things, destroy whatever lay in his path so that perhaps in the wreckage these feelings might get lost.

He wanted to curl up in a ball, wondering if he made himself small enough he could disappear as if the ground had swallowed him whole and this entire thing had never happened.

He felt a bit like he was dying. And perhaps some part of him was.

This was supposed to be the therapeutic part right?

People always say when you’re calm over a heartbreak that’s because there was nothing that was ever really there. There was nothing tangible. When it’s real, when it’s something or someone really important, you feel it. You feel angry, scared, sad, hurt….you do nothing but feel.

_It's these type of feelings. That’s where the best music comes from._

Namjoon’s words echo in his head.

Yoongi scoffs to himself, he doesn’t think he could set a pen to paper and capture these feelings adequately if he tried.

He glances over at the pencil and he paper before him with suspicion.

 _Fuck it_ , it’s not like he’s got any better ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO......I was going to only do 13 chapters but decided to split what I've been working on into two parts so there will actually be 14. LMAO. I'm snowed in by a blizzard and decided to back and add some visual elements to my stories as well a major update overhaul. Hope you all enjoy!


	14. Make All The Tables Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE END IS NEAR >.

He was heartbreakingly beautiful like this, Taeyang thought, as he lingered at the door of the studio. Yoongi’s naturally hooded eyes were red rimmed, his head was bent studiously over a piece of paper, one of many, some balled up in careless little balls that littered the floor and some full of scribbles that flooded the desk in Yoongi’s familiar scrawl.

The scene was nostalgic as he thought back to the first time Yoongi had brought him here just a few short months ago. Back to that first time he’d expressed any interest in Taeyang. That gummy smile when Taeyang had hastily declined his offer, as if he knew Taeyang would be changing his tune.

Briefly, Taeyang wondered if this was just how Yoongi operated or if this—ordeal-- was exclusive to him. He studied him further. A watery tear that slid down Yoongi’s cheek and the hasty way he paused to wipe at it told Taeyang that this wasn’t the usual for Yoongi either. He didn’t lure men home like this.

Which meant Taeyang was special.

Or _had been_ special.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open just enough to slip through, shutting it behind him quietly when Yoongi glanced up at him, dismissively at first, eyes quickly delving back to the sheet before him. He almost laughed when the younger did a double take, eyes darting back up to Taeyang’s form.

He’d meant to tell him. Tell him everything he was feeling, but somehow, in what felt like the single most important moment of his life _to date_ his words ran dry under Yoongi’s gaze. He could neither comfort him nor wound him appropriately without first saying something but he was sufficiently wordless.

Yoongi seemed to be just fine communicating with him without words for the moment. He looked tired and wary in Taeyang’s eyes, letting out a ragged sigh, pinching at the bridge of his nose and wiping a hand at his cheeks as if trying to appear tired and in need of stretch, when Taeyang knew it was really to check for stray tears.

Then, for many moments, they just stared at eachother, unsure of who was going to cave and speak first. Yoongi looking at Taeyang as if he was trying to see through him but not quite being able to, anxious to get the conversation over with. Taeyang had never felt more lacking and just when he could stand the silence no longer…

“What is it, Bae-ssi?” Yoongi’s voice rasped, breaking from tension or emotion making him openly cringe at such an obvious show of emotion. But to Taeyang it felt like a small spark of hope.

Taeyang took a few more steps forward, unable to look at Yoongi as he searched for the words. He was sure to be rejected at this point but it didn’t stop him from hoping with the way Yoongi had called him so familiarly. The name made Taeyang’s heart beat five times faster than should legally be allowed. They weren’t kidding when fans said BTS can make your heart race.

“I never—I never questioned myself before I met you.” He started, Yoongi’s eyes set resolutely, suddenly finding the floor interesting. Once the words started he knew he had to finish, no matter the outcome.

“It was never my intention to hurt you, Yoongi-ah. It’s just that… I’m not gay. I’m sorry, I just don’t like men.” Taeyang reasoned.

Yoongi swallowed audibly, nodding. Hadn’t he already heard this? Hadn’t they _fucked_ afterwards? Hadn’t he _enjoyed_ it? Why were they still talking about this? Why was he _STILL HERE_?

To drive the dagger further into Yoongi’s heart? To sink him lower?

Yoongi was staggeringly silent where Taeyang thought he’d have a million and one things to say. Instead all he said was…

“Is that all?”

His glassy eyes peered up at Taeyang questioningly, pain glistening there and it floored Taeyang. He felt _something_. Why else would it be painful? He wondered if Yoongi could see the same emotion mirrored in his own eyes or if he was too caught up in the words he was about to say next for the younger male to see through him into his soul. Either way when Yoongi moved towards the booth in effort to escape Taeyang’s onslaught, the elder simply followed him.

But it was the straw that broke the camel’s back for Yoongi as he whipped around to confront the elder male so dogged in his steps, trailing behind him like some lost fucking puppy.

“HAVEN’T YOU HAD ENOUGH?” Yoongi barked before his face began to crumple as he shoved the headset onto his head in effort to drown Taeyang out.

Taeyang swallowed back the insult because he knew Yoongi was hurting. Yoongi didn’t know. He didn’t know what Taeyang had just sacrificed. He didn’t know what Taeyang felt. It still hurt. Like the sting of a slap before you begged for more.

“I don’t like men, Yoongi.” He repeated quietly.

Yoongi was a mess, unable to keep the tears from gathering but trying to will them back into their rightful place, somewhere deep in the undisturbed corners of his soul. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, lips straining as he fumbled with the buttons on the machine unable to drown out Taeyang’s words. Eventually he gave up, face crumpling as he hung his head in hands.

“I know.”

“But I’m pretty sure I love _you_.”

Yoongi paused, face lifting gingerly. Because the words Taeyang just said did not compute.

“What?” he asked, well, whispered really, and though he was sure he looked pitiful as fuck, he needed confirmation that his ears weren’t deceiving him. Because there was no way this bastard just said...

“I love you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s first reaction was anger. He shoved at Taeyang with a force even he didn’t know he possessed. They ended up plastered up against the wall, breath knocked out of the elder, Yoongi winded himself as he tried to control the angry sobs, leaning against the solid wall of muscle that was Taeyang’s chest.

“Don’t fuck with me, Bae. Please. Please don’t tease me. It’s really not fucking funny.” He whined, the hiccoughs between the words giving way to any semblance of a threat.

Taeyang worked to catch his breath as he reasoned through Yoongi’s rather violent response to his confession. The fact that he thought he was joking about something like this made Taeyang’s heart pang with a dull kind of ache that could only be cured with a lifetime of making it up to the shorter male.

“Why—why the fuck would I jo-joke about something like this, Yoongi-ah?”

Yoongi caved into him then, knees buckling, legs only left with enough strength to press into Taeyang, who caught Yoongi’s weight in its entirety and gently sunk them to the floor as Yoongi continued to sob into his chest, warm and wet. Taeyang wasn’t expecting this type of response yet he did the only thing he knew how to do, arms encircling Yoongi, reaching around to trace soothing circles onto his back, cheek resting against the shock of sea green hair that smelled vaguely of mint.

_Heh. Mint. Figures._

It took a solid 15 minutes before Yoongi had calmed down enough to manage some form of conversation and even then they just sat there huddled in a lump on the ground, their bodies pressing warm against each other. It was a feeling Taeyang could get used to.

“You’re stupid. So fucking stupid.”

“And late. Reeeeaaaaally fucking late.” Taeyang added, nodding his assent and it made Yoongi chuckle this stupid little sound that made Taeyang so incredibly happy.

“Asshole.”

“Mmmmm, thought you already had one of those…” Taeyang couldn’t resist, toying with the ends of Yoongi’s hair as he made that stupid sounding laugh again, the one that turned into a pile of mush.

“I do. And I’m sure you’re well acquainted. But having two….may not be so bad.”

Taeyang smiled, his heart felt like it was dancing in his chest. When Yoongi turned to face him he immediately felt bereft at the loss of contact but Yoongi’s eyes were pinning him to the spot, searching for something.

“Do we have to talk about this… or is everything good?” the younger asked tentatively.

“There’s only one thing I need you to hear from you, Yoongi-ah.” Taeyang murmured, purposely making his voice husky enough to stir Yoongi’s blood as he leaned forward, tugging at the younger’s collar so that his face was mere inches from his own. Scratch that, centimeters, eyes pooling into a chocolate brown color.

“What’s that?” Yoongi whispered carefully.

“When to press record.” Taeyang grinned, an expression that matched Yoongi’s own with the intent of coaxing the sweetest of all sounds out of Yoongi’s mouth….by less than professional means.

Yoongi would fucking love it.

_Just like Yoongi loved him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel a bit like I'm parting with one of my children. LMAO. I may do some bonus chapters in the future if requested. I really like this pairing. (heh, who am I kidding I really like YOONGI) I hope that I go on to give birth to other wonderful works of art and that you guys continue to enjoy my stories. You guys are so amazing. I love all your comments. This is really my first finished chaptered fic and I just feel so cathartic. But now I can focus on the other pieces of the series. (YangYoon as I call them have been monopolizing me lately since I was nearing the end). I hope you guys like the ending. Tell me what you think and I hope you continue to read (or start) the rest of the series. THANK YOU GUYS. (I can't imagine how weird it will be to finish the series as a whole) You all help me to grow as a writer. <3 Nothing but love <3


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